An Amusing Interlude
by KosagiNoLegion
Summary: AU: What could Neon's prophecy for Quoll have meant by an amusing interlude? Part 19: Chess In which a final battle is waged and things come to an end. COMPLETE!
1. Confrontation

An Amusing Interlude – Part 1: Confrontation – In which acquaintances are renewed.   
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

* * *

Quoll: 

Some things are inevitable. Others chosen. I have to wonder which this is, as I gaze across the crowded diner at the young man who has just stepped through the door. Dressed in a light tunic, he looks no different from any other diner, except for the odd bracelet he wears, with its tiny chains connected to rings on his fingers. Kurapika. 

His eyes search. Search and find me so quickly I know I'm their target. Now when my fortune told me to go east to meet someone, it didn't tell me it'd be him. I wonder if I'd have gone, otherwise? 

I meet his gaze. There's no point in running. I could, of course, but he'd follow and even if I lost him now, he'd still be hunting. Still be on my trail. Better mine then the others, though. I'm the one he blames most, after all. The one bearing the greatest responsibility in his family's death. So, let him come. Let us see what it is Neon's prophecy means for me. If disaster, then so be it. _At least now I know what it meant by amusing. _

He walks up to the counter and sits. "Coffee," he says quietly. So, not here to fight, at least not yet. I nod, pouring a cup and putting it in front of him. "Cream? Sugar's right in front of you." 

"Yes." His eyes avoid mine, as if he doesn't dare look at me without calling forth the Ruby Eye. I turn away, _So, Lucifer Quoll, why don't you run after all? Run and give him a chase he will never forget? A chase that will keep him far away from the others. Keep him from hurting the Spider any further._ I don't run, however, just get the cream from the refrigerator, take a few orders as I pass, and return to my grill. 

My silent watcher buys supper and waits for me, pretending to read a book. It isn't until my relief walks in and takes over for me that he gets up and pays. His eyes meet mine and I can see their message. Meet him outside. Whatever. It's not like I have much to go home to. 

He's standing at the corner near the diner, partially concealed in shadows. I walk past, pausing only long enough to allow him to join me. There's no point in commenting, though. He's the one who found me, after all. Let him make the first move. 

My silence unnerves him, as it's intended to. "Why a cook?" 

"Why not?" I ask, amused at the non-sequitur. He really doesn't care what I'm doing. The fact that I'm dressed in greasy whites, my hair stuffed into a net – those are things that mean nothing to him. The fact that I am the leader of the Genei Ryodan – no matter how much in exile I might be – is what matters, what sets us against each other, what makes him my enemy and what, likely, will make him the death of me. _And I the death of him?_ I wonder. 

"Yeah, I guess." He continues to walk. "I have questions I want answered, Quoll. Many questions. You're going to talk, this time. You don't have hostages to keep you safe." 

I allow myself a small smile, gazing sideways at him. Such a beautiful boy. Mop of blonde hair, wide eyes that ought to hold all the innocence of the world and don't. Determined young face. His arms are hidden under his loose tunic, but I know from experience that they are strong. "You know perfectly well I don't care what you do to me." 

"I don't know anything of the sort. That prophecy Neon told me she'd written one for you. You knew that you wouldn't be one of the dead, no matter what else happened. You said as much, then." He looks at me and I can see the flicker of rage in his eyes, the faint reddish glow that will soon, I know, turn to a hellish fire. Something in me wants to respond, to return rage for rage, but I cannot let it. "You can't know you'll survive _this_ meeting." 

"True," I admit. He's right that I hadn't feared him that night, any more than I fear him now. "But by the same token, my dying won't matter." I can see him growing tense and confused. He still doesn't understand. My life is nothing compared to the Spider's. I'd been fully prepared to die that night when he'd captured me. Would have embraced my death gladly if it meant my Spider lived. Instead, he stole them from me and locked away my _nen_. That I didn't die was only because Pakunoda had refused to accept it, had betrayed my rules and my plans to save the Spider. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if she hadn't. Considering that the Spider lives, albeit without me, perhaps her choice was the better one. My choices aren't always the right ones, after all. At least one such mistake had devastating consequences. 

As we approach the edge of the city, I turn and watch my would-be killer. "Where?" 

KURAPIKA: 

I take a deep breath, conscious of my enemy's presence beside me, feeling my hatred rise. Damn him. I want to break that composure, want to beat some reaction out of him other then the empty eyed, empty souled, one he always shows. _Something. ANYTHING, to show he's alive, damnit!_ I hold down the reaction, force myself to remain as composed as he is. "Further. It doesn't matter which way," I tell him at last, when it's clear he's allowing – no, forcing – me to take the lead. 

"Very well" he answers, walking onwards. His voice holds nothing. No clue, no answers. Nothing. Damn him. 

"Out of the city. Somewhere private." I gesture randomly, watching him, trying to see if that scores at all. There's only one reason to take him out of earshot of any possible watchers. Only one reason for privacy. He disappoints me, simply turning his footsteps in the direction I indicate. 

The shadows darken around us. It was late night when I'd found him. It's much later, now, lit only by an occasional street lamp. The flickering light makes it difficult to really see his face, to see any expression at all, but my night vision is good. A boy's face. Too young for the years I know he bears. Neon told me he was 26. Not a child by any means – he must be using _ten_ to keep young. In a way, I'm glad. I'd have trouble killing a child – even one who has committed the horror this man has on my people. 

My people. All dead. All killed for the sake of the red brilliance that comes into our eyes in the heat of passion. All dead because of this man and the spider he rules. I want him dead. I want all of the spiders dead. They're evil. Cruel Crueler still in that their internal ties are so strong that even this man's death wouldn't end them. Not even taking him away from them, forcing him to avoid all contact on pain of death, has ended them. I just don't understand. Don't understand how they can care so much about each other but be so callous about the lives of those outside their little band. 

We come to a halt in a place not unlike the one where I dealt with the first of their little group to die. Wide open space, dusty, with only a few sparse plants. It resembles a moonscape. I turn to look at him, at his calm, icy features. The light is enough to limn his pallor, turn it into something like porcelain. His eyes are on the moon, dark, empty of feeling and so huge they seem to take up most of his face. His hair, freed from its hair-net, falls loose around his face and there's a few specks of grease on his cheeks and forehead. 

The last time I saw him he was better dressed, hair slicked back, perfectly placed. His face had taken some damage – I'd hit him a number of times when I'd had him in my power – but it had had much the same expression as it does now. In another man I'd call it sorrow. In him, I just don't know. I can't believe it's sadness – not in the man whose orders killed my people. Not in the man I hate. Sadness would mean humanity and his humanity is something I don't want to believe in. 

He glances my way and ever so faintly I think I see amusement. He stands silent. Waiting. DAMN HIM. 

QUOLL: 

So this is how it's to be. A silent place, a quiet, dead place. Somehow befitting that my death will be in a place like this, given, of course that I'm inclined to submit. He's watching me, waiting for me to make the first move and growing angrier every minute I fail to do so. Still, I may not value my life, but I have no reason to make taking it simple for him. _And many more reasons to be difficult. Ten of them, in fact, with Ubo gone and Hisoka never really being one of us. _

He walks towards me, eyes glaring, beginning to glow a faint ruby at their depths. The eyes of the Kurota. The ruby glow that can burn the heart and shred the soul. Or would, had I been left a heart to burn – a soul to shred. The thing he has enchained is just a pump forcing life through my veins, nothing more. I wait, still watching him. Oh yes, he's beautiful, an avenging angel, swearing death on those he believes has wronged him. Only to be expected my Ryodan would bring down such hatred on its head in time. Only to be expected that my life will be forfeit. 

"Talk." 

"About?" I ask. "About the night skies? The wind? The truth?" At his expression I allow myself the faintest smile. "Yes, I know what you want. I'm just not inclined to answer, anymore than you are willing to tell me what Ubo said before he died." That scores. The last time we met he'd refused to tell me, pretended he didn't remember. The fire dies out momentarily and he looks away. I continue, relentlessly, "What do you expect? Shall I tell you how horribly I feel for the deaths of your people? Or say it was a terrible, regrettable, mistake? Or maybe I should tell you that the reason Kurota died is that they brought it down on their own heads?" 

His fists clench and he moves at me, lashing out physically. Easy to avoid and I do it, dodging backwards. I wonder that he doesn't use his chain on me, does he think my lack of _nen_ makes me helpless? Or have I simply infuriated him to the point that he can't control himself? It doesn't matter. 

KURAPIKA: 

I spin kick, scoring a blow on Quoll's arm. It would probably have broken a normal man's bone, but his _ten_ helps him resist the blow. He grabs my foot, tosses it in the air and throws me backwards. Somehow, though, I manage to somersault and land a few feet away. I glare at him, wondering what he's going to do. 

Oddly, he doesn't attack and I wonder why. Not that it matters. I'm too angry now to stop myself from trying to land a blow. Once more I rush forward, only a bit more cautiously than I had before. He's so damned fast and it occurs to me that blocking his _nen_ hasn't made him that much less formidable. I ought to use Chain Jail on him. Ought to bring him down to earth as fast as possible. 

My anger, however, is such that I simply can't choose that path. I want so much to drive my point home into his body. To make him understand just how much his Spider has hurt me. I'd hit him before, took out my rage on him when he was helpless and felt shamed and dirtied by doing so. This time he can at least defend himself from a physical attack. It's not a fair fight, not when I have the Chain Jail as a back up, but it's fairer than it was before. 

I can feel my eyes beginning to glow, burning with the red fire that made my people the Spider's target. Even now I can't understand why anyone would want to own another's body part and the thought enrages me more, sends more heat into my eyes. I wonder that he isn't affected, as I swing at him again, managing to catch him in the stomach and knock him backwards. Most humans regard the Eyes as a thing of terror, as well as beauty. There is power behind the Eyes, though mine is untrained and mostly untapped. A power that can destroy the mind if allowed loose. Without even thinking about it, I do. 

QUOLL: 

_Hmph. Not bad._ I take a deep gasp of air, dodging Kurapika's fist as it aims for my jaw. He's a good fighter, I'll give him that much, but then he'd have to be to have become a Hunter. Still, I have a feeling he relies on his chains more in a fight. He's not quite used to a purely physical brawl, whereas I grew up, kicking, struggling and brawling. He is softer than I am, too. Less willing to hurt, even at the depths of rage. If I really wanted to kill him I could. 

I can't afford to, though, even if I'd wanted him dead. His hatred for me, for my Spider, is intense. So intense that his dying might simply drag me down with him. I don't object to my death, but I do object to dying at someone else's whim. He wants me dead, that's fine, but I die when my ability to fight is finished and no sooner. 

His eyes are beginning to glow now, and I can see why there are those who value their color. Not like mine. Passion in my eyes does not create such beauty, such brilliance, just pain for me and for my enemies. Not that I allow such passion to rule me. I cannot. I _dare_ not. Not even the energies that flow from Kurapika's Ruby Eyes can be permitted to reach me. 

I dodge sideways. It's time to end this fight before things go any further, before he makes me lose control. He's lost all sense if he's released the Eyes at the power level he has. Anyone else in the area would be in agony, unable to think or feel anything but the rage that pours off of him. I wonder if he knows that a crowd would have torn me apart at the behest of those eyes and decide it doesn't matter. I reach into my pocket, somersaulting backwards to evade his kick. 

The powder I throw hits him in the face, sending him into a coughing fit. A second later he collapses. Unlike a certain Zoldick of my acquaintance, Kurapika is no powerhouse able to withstand a soporific without even blinking. He has no chance against the drug. I give it time to clear, then pick him up and carry him away. 

To Be Continued 

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Spellings: Kurota is probably wrong. I've seen it rendered so many different ways though, that it's hard to figure out what it should be. I may fix it sometime. Quoll Well, I just can't resist using that spelling, considering that a quoll is a cute lil critter with absolutely huge eyes. Something in the chipmunk family, I think. 

Kurapika: If he's a chipmunk then he's some sort of rodent. (goes to get the rat poison) 

Quoll: . (hides in Kosagi's wig, ala Kodocha) 


	2. Capture

An Amusing Interlude – Part 2: Capture – In which another player enters the game.   
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Clapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

* * *

CLAPIKA: 

I awake to a furious headache and aching sinuses. Because of that it is several seconds before I realize that I'm tied, tightly, to metal pipes. My hands are separated, bound by wrists, elbows and shoulders. More rope is tied around my waist and crosses my chest, and another rope pulls my legs out forward towards another set of pipes across from me. 

"What the" I gasp, trying to pull free, but without any luck. I'm very firmly trapped. Looking around I see I'm in an abandoned building's cellar in what might have once been the furnace room. Nearby, seated on a box, is Quoll. He's just finishing a bowl of noodles, a small book set on a larger box beside him. At my motion he looks up, sets the bowl down and stands. 

In the dim light from a small fire, he's a terrifying figure. He's returned to the costume he wore when I first met him. Dark pants, shirt and coat, the last with thick white fur at the collar and a reversed cross on its back, bluestone earrings reflecting red in the firelight. Only his hair, allowed to fall loose around his face, softens the cruelty of his appearance. His wide, unnerving, stare takes me in consideringly and I find myself unable to speak. _He's going to kill me,_ I realize. 

"Ahhh. Awake, then. Hungry?" 

I blink at him, unable to believe the question. He seems to recognize the confusion in my eyes and he shrugs and goes to a pot simmering over the fire and puts more noodles into a second bowl. "I'm sure you are." 

"Let me go!" I growl angrily. 

"Hmmm. Will you remove the Judgment Chain, if I do?" He glances my way, smiles wryly. "I thought not. In which case, letting you go just means going back to fighting, and I don't feel like it right now." Rising to his feet, coat swinging about him in a swirl of black, he walks over to me and sits down cross legged. "Now then Open wide." 

I glare at him, teeth gritted as I answer, "The hell I will, you bastard!" 

"Such language," he shakes his head. "You need to eat. The Eyes take it out of you." At my stare, he shrugs. "I know something about them. Possibly more than you do." He lifts a few noodles from the bowl with a pair of chopsticks and repeats. "Eat." 

"I'll use the strength to kill you," I swear and am surprised to see an amused smile cross his face. "What? You don't believe me?" 

He uses the moment to pop the noodles into my mouth and I spit them in his face. 

QUOLL: 

I'm not entirely surprised that, even bound and helpless, Clapika is resisting anything I offer him. It doesn't matter, though, because I fully intend to get food into him. I can see the way his fingers are shaking and it isn't just rage that causes that tremble. He needs to eat, or he'll make himself ill. 

"Tsk," I tell him, wiping the mess from my face. "You eat this or I find another, less dignified means of making you eat. Do you understand?" 

He stares at me and I can see angry comprehension in his eyes. Then he opens his mouth and lets me put more noodles in. As I feed him, I answer his question. "It's simple, little Kurota. You won't kill me because you can't." I use a chopstick to point at his heart. "You're not a killer. Not in there. If you were, you'd have found a more direct means of dealing with us than that chain of yours. What was it you called it? Chain Jail. Not exactly the most effective use of your energies, Clapika." 

He stares at me, his eyes more grey than blue in the firelight. "What" 

I wonder why I'm telling him this. Clarifying an enemy's weak point for them is just plain foolish. Still, I can't help but continue. "You'd use your Judgment Chain on us. Then let our own choices be our deaths. That was how Ubo died. Refusing to answer your questions. Refusing to tell you our reasons. His loyalty to the Spider was greater than his fear of death and your Chain used that against him." 

His eyes widen and he swallows his food. "I don't understand. I don't understand any of you!" he growls furiously. "You. Ubo. Pakunoda All willing to _die_ for your stupid Spider" 

"PPakunoda?" That startles me and it's a moment before I regain my equilibrium enough to ask, "What do you mean" 

"She broke the Judgment on her. She told someone about me. I felt her die." 

CLAPIKA: 

I blink at his expression. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, but somehow, despite that, he shows little emotion. Still, I have a sense of having told him something agonizingly painful. I don't know why, or how, but I almost feel the waves of hurt rolling off him. I'm surprised when he simply holds out more noodles for me, saying, "I see." 

Chewing and swallowing quickly, I can't help but demand, "How can you say that so calmly? She was one of you. She risked her life with the rest of your group to save you!" 

The look on Quoll's face turns frightening. It's a chilling, angry and hate-filled look, almost seeming to burn like the Ruby Eye. Then it's gone, replaced by a quiet, thoughtful, expression. "Yes. She did. She betrayed the Spider's rules by doing so. It was her choice, and her right to choose. It was not the way I would have wished the prophecy broken, but who am I to decry it? Especially considering it worked – possibly better than anything I had planned." 

It bothers me more than a little that he seems to be taking Pakunoda's death so lightly. I had been furious at the time, furious at the Spider and furious at myself, so I hadn't realized just how hard she was trying to save her leader, how much she'd sacrificed to that purpose. Yet he sits there, calmly feeding me, as if I'd simply told him she'd taken a long trip. 

A faint smile crosses Quoll's lips as he puts more food into my mouth. "Don't try and elicit a response, Clapika. I cannot afford to let my feelings on the matter free. Nor would you appreciate the result." I recognize a threat when I hear one, and I go silent. 

At last he's put the last bit of food into my mouth and I have to admit that I feel much better for it. My hands feel stronger and my head is no longer swimming. He was right that using the Ruby Eyes like I had is a drain, though I have no idea how he could possibly know. _He probably studied us, before he targeted my people._ He rises and walks over to the fire again, putting more wood on it and setting the bowl aside. Then he goes back to his own food and I realize he'd let it get cold. I don't like this. He's my enemy. Why is he being so solicitous of me? Is he trying to find a way to change my feelings towards him? _It won't work! _

"What are you going to do?" I ask finally, glaring at him. "You don't expect to keep me here forever, do you? Why not just kill me?" 

QUOLL: 

I look up from my book. "That's a good question," I tell him. "I'm not really sure yet. I really didn't expect to catch you. Wasn't expecting to see you again for a while, so I'm afraid I'm playing this one by ear." He simply stares at me and I continue, "As for killing you. Your hatred for me is such that doing so might well be my own death. Not quite the optimal solution for the problem. My Spider needs me alive still and" I force my voice not to break, force the emotions back, "P Pakunoda sacrificed herself to make sure I survived. I'm sure she told the others what she knew in order to keep them from looking for me. I was fully expecting to have to stay on the run from them as well as you." In a way, that knowledge eased – ever so slightly – the pain that Paku's death caused me. It was not in vain and I will not permit it to be. 

"Don't think you can force me to cooperate," Clapika warns. "I won't make the mistake of underestimating you again. I get free and" 

"You'll use the Chain Jail on me," I agree. "Yes, I know. Not to mention some neat new Judgments, given you can." It's not possible to tell from his expression whether he could change the Judgment, or add to them. It's not a risk I plan on taking. Losing my Spider and my _nen_ is quite enough of a headache. I shrug. "I'll have to think about how to keep you subdued. For the moment, though" I pause, glancing upstairs, listening intently. 

"What?" 

"We have company. I'm relatively certain we weren't followed." I rise to my feet and move to a position under one of the holes in the ceiling. Through it I can see a man. Dressed in a suit, he screams Mafia. _Well. Damn. This isn't a good development._

"I smell smoke," one man says, then I hear another voice, a familiar one. "Then he's here?" 

I stand still, thinking fast. Neon Nostrad wouldn't be with these men if they weren't under her orders, or her father's. I couldn't imagine her looking for me out of some peculiar form of puppy-love. She might not realize what I did to her before we parted, but I'd given her no reason to see me as a possible boyfriend. 

"Probably, Miss. You wait here with the guards and we'll start looking for him. That kid is dangerous." I frown at that. Somehow I don't think I'm the one they're looking for. I look young, but not _that_ young, surely. 

Kneeling beside Clapika, I whisper, "Is there a reason Neon would be hunting for you? Aside from your eyes, that is?" Neon Nostrad had a thing about collecting body parts, including Kurota eyes. 

His eyes go wide and he glances upwards with a look of momentary panic, quickly stilled before it can shift his eyes into red. "I stole her collection of eyes before I left. She had a few before the auction." 

CLAPIKA: 

I have to fight down fear. Here I am, helpless, while one of the people who had collected my people's eyes is looking for me. I curse the impulse that had made me steal her part in the collection before going to search for Quoll. I should have waited until I'd finished my other business, not revealed my intentions so boldly. 

Quoll's expression is thoughtful and I pull back, wrenching my shoulder, as he draws a long, elegant, knife from a sheathe at his side. "Don't move," he growls. "It's a poison blade. You'll be paralyzed if it so much as nicks you." While I stare, he slides the blade along the rope around my left wrist and cuts it halfway through. He repeats the process on the other wrist, then sheathes the blade. "There's an exit that way," he says, pointing into the darkness. "You'll want to use it." 

"Why?" 

He shakes his head. "Another of those questions that I won't answer, Clapika. And I don't have time to discuss it anyway." He rises to his feet and heads towards the ladder that leads up into the next area and I realize suddenly that he's buying me time. 

_DAMN IT! I DON'T WANT YOUR CHARITY!_ It's infuriating, the more so because I have no choice. If I draw attention to myself I'll be caught. There's too high a probability that Neon realizes that I'm one of the Ruby Eyes, now. The thought of what would happen to me is terrifying, and I deeply regret letting that one man see them at the auction. 

I work at the ropes, pulling them free after some struggles, then hurriedly undo the ropes around my ankles. I know why he made it so difficult. He didn't want me to interfere. Still _He has no _nen_. He'll die up there for sure._ I don't know why I'm not willing to have that happen, though it's tied up in the secrets he's keeping from me. Carrying the ropes away with me, I head towards the stairs he indicated. I can leave that way, but there's nothing to prevent me from coming back another. 

QUOLL: 

I ignore Clapika's mental shout and pull myself up onto the first floor of the old warehouse stepping out into the circle of light cast by my 'guest's' flashlights. One of them shines a light at me and I hear Neon gasp my name. "Quoll? Lucifer Quoll? You're here too?" 

I smile at her, though I feel little friendship. "Why hello, Ms. Nostrad. Fancy meeting you here." The glare of the light is irritating, but I can still see her face as she stares at me. "Can I help you?" 

Her expression answers one important question. She knows who I am. The way her eyes narrow, the flare of irritation mixed with fear. "My father's people are looking for you If you weren't shielded" 

"Really?" I ask. "How nice." It occurs to me that they've been using her stolen _nen_ as a search point and with mine locked away they couldn't find me. I shrug, setting the thought aside and consider how to stall. The longer I take talking, the more time Clapika has to escape. _And why, Lucifer, are you letting him?_ It's a complicated matter, the more so since I acted as much on impulse as on anything else. Perhaps, in the end, it's the fact that this girl will take his eyes from him for no better reason than she collects body parts. Even my Spider had a better reason than that for what we did to his tribe. Then, of course, there's the fact that he'd probably be killed. I can fight these people, perhaps even escape, but if he's killed I'm likely to die of it. _Besides, you captured him out of impulse. Might as well let him go for the same reason._

Neon glances at her men and I can see they're preparing to attack. Twenty, all told, with one small, fragile, little woman accompanying her. I keep an eye on that one, suspecting anything that delicate and apparently helpless. "He's the one who stole my _nen_," she tells them. "Don't kill him, but capture him. We need to force him to return it." 

I dodge the first man, somersaulting out of his way. I don't bother denying my guilt, simply say, "There's a problem with that," as I break the next man's neck for him. "For various reasons I simply can't return it right now." It would, I think, be a serious mistake for me to tell them straight out that I don't have my _nen_. I've barely a chance at survival as it is. 

I leap towards the middle of the room, aiming to get myself to the window, but am forced to pull back as a shot is fired. It wings my arm, but I ignore the sting of its passage in favor of dodging another of Neon's men. She's shrieking at them to be careful and I realize she's afraid that killing me would end up destroying the talent I'd stolen from her. _And it might._ I really don't know what would happen to those I've robbed if I die. 

Suddenly the skinny little female is moving, climbing up one of the columns with a rapid skitter. Keeping an eye on her is a distraction, but I don't dare ignore what she's up to. Unfortunately, that gives one of the bigger of Neon's men a chance to grab me around the waist and lift me in the air. 

I draw my dagger, slicing downwards. It nicks him and he collapses instantly. Of all the things I've stolen over the years, my little _benz_ blade is the most useful. Its very metal is imbued with a poison that can paralyze all gross motor functions while leaving the victim able to breathe and speak. My _nen_ requires a living, though not necessarily conscious, subject for stealing skills, so the blade has been invaluable. 

It's proving its worth here. I'm able to take down five more of my attackers without wasting time making sure of a kill. I'm still paying attention to the _nen_ user, waiting for her attack. When it comes, though, it's so fast that I'm lucky to avoid it. She doesn't just drop at me, she dives, flashing through the air too quickly for me to cut her. I try to dodge backwards but she's moving too damn fast, even for me. Only my _ten_ blocks her blow, but not enough, not nearly enough. I feel her feet drive into my shoulder blade, cracking it and sending me flying. 

To Be Continued 

Author's Note:

Yes, I know Quoll just did something weird in here. Hang on tight, cause it's going to get weirder.


	3. Combat

An Amusing Interlude: Part 3 – Combat – In which Neon makes demands.   
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

(Apologies for last installment... I forgot to fix the spelling on Kurapika. I'll have to update when I have a chance.)

* * *

KURAPIKA: 

I crouch in the shadows above the fight, watching Quoll. His knife work is fast, his fighting skills incredible. I think I see why Hisoka was so anxious to fight him. If there is anything that perverted clown loves, it's a challenge. Quoll would be a challenge even without his _nen_, though I can also see that he's got no chance of winning. There are too many of them. 

When the _nen_ user leaps at him, I'm stunned at her speed. She's using strength, maximizing her physical output. Small, delicate and fragile in appearance, she might well have been a rival for Ubo. 

I watch Quoll roll helplessly across the floor and somehow manage to land on his feet. "That's all there is to the infamous leader of the Genei Ryodan?" the woman demands. "No _nen_? Just shielding and your natural speed and strength?" She sneers. "You're fast, a good fighter, but it's not good enough!" 

Quoll shrugs, breathing hard, watching her silently. I consider my own actions. I can't interfere here without risking both our lives to no purpose. There's too many for me to handle by myself, even if the _nen_ user is within my power. 

As the _nen_ user circles around Quoll, he drops into a ready crouch. Her _nen_ enhanced strength and small size makes her too fast for him. Sooner or later he'll tire enough that she'll be able to hit him. He knows that and I see him glance towards the window, as if wondering if he has the remotest chance of reaching it. I doubt he does, doubt that – even if he made it – she'd let him get far. 

They dodge and spin and evade, but I can see I'm right. Ever so slightly, he's slowing down, and each time he misses an evasion she lands a blow that sends him rolling. Each time, he takes a bit longer to get back to his feet. Each blow leaves its mark, her clawing fingers rip fabric and skin below, her kicks less obviously damaging, but I can imagine what they're doing to him. Once she grabs him by the leg and swings him around, throwing him across the room, ripping his boot off in the process. At last she doesn't even have to move quickly to hit him and her kick, straight for the center of his stomach, throws him backwards against the wall. He coughs, blood spattering the ground in front of him and collapses into a heap. 

QUOLL: 

I close my eyes against the pain, feeling my cracked ribs creak every time I breathe, feeling the sharp stab of broken bones. No amount of _ten_ could protect me from those blows, and each time one landed my ability to focus became that much less. Now all I can do is maintain composure for what I know is coming. I have to. 

My attacker nudges me slightly. "Disappointing," she mutters. "But not bad, even without _nen_." I hear Neon stepping forward, hesitantly at first, then more quickly once she's sure I'm not faking it. _Heh I wish I was._ Everything hurts and I wonder if I could manage a dead faint before she starts questioning me. 

"So. Why is it you can't give me back my skill, thief?" Neon asks softly. "You know how much trouble you caused me and daddy?" 

I stay quiet, feeling blood dribble out my nose and mouth. The internal damage must be spectacular. It's certainly all I can do to ignore it. I feel hands moving on me, pulling my arms behind my back. It only takes a few minutes before I'm trussed up so tightly that Kurapika would have been proud of the effort. I'm forced to kneel, my head pulled back so that I'm looking up into Neon's face. 

"Are you going to answer me?" 

I manage a shrug, though the effort is almost more painful than it's worth. "I've lost my _nen_," I say finally. "Let's just say the thief was robbed and leave it at that." 

"Someone _else_ is running around with my skill?" Neon's voice is high pitched and furious. "How could you be so careless with _my_ skill?" 

I manage a smile. "Something like that," I admit. "Suffice to say that I can't do a thing for you now." I'm not going to tell her I'd die of it. There's a chance, I suppose, that I could free her page from my book before I die from the Judgment Chain, but that still leaves me dead. _Not just yet._

Neon is about to ask something more when one of her men speak up. I realize he's climbing out of the cellar, where I'd been hiding. "Miss Nostrad There must be another here. I found two bowls down there." 

"Kurapika?" She spins, turns to me. "Was Kurapika here?" 

Another shrug is my only answer. With luck, of course, Kurapika is long gone, having chosen discretion over valor – especially where his worst enemy was concerned – and escaped. Luck, unfortunately, is not on my side. My shrug causes the man holding me to tug my head back further, to arch me backwards and roar into my face. "ANSWER HER!" That, however, isn't nearly so disturbing as what I see hidden in the shadowy recesses of the rafters. A familiar shape, holding so still that I'm fairly sure he wouldn't be seen. None the less, panic hits. He should not be there, not when the Mafia brat is prepared to take his eyes from him. Not when the only thing here is his worst enemy. _Stupid idiot! GO AWAY!_

At the same time I hear Neon gasp. "My god! HE HAS THE EYES TOO!" 

KURAPIKA: 

As his eyes meet mine I'd almost swear I see a gleam at their depths. Imagination, I decide, clinging more deeply to the shadows, clutching the rafter tightly. Just in time, too, because somehow he manages to project a thought straight into my head. _Stupid idiot! GO AWAY!_ It rips into my mind, an agony I've never felt before. 

I stare, startled and in pain from the force of his mental communication. He shouldn't have been able to do that and I'm in shock. So much so that I barely comprehend what Neon says next. When I do, however, its with utter disbelief. Quoll can't have the Eyes. He's not Kurota. He's our killer, a thing of evil, not a kinsman. Not my only living kinsman left. 

Watching Neon grasp Quoll's face, I'm reminded of someone buying a horse. She stares into his face consideringly and though I can't see her expression I don't need to. I've seen it on her face before. That possessiveness that makes her so obsessive about what she wants. "You have the Eyes. I saw the glow!" 

"Stupid. The Kurota clan is dead." 

"Not Kurapika. You two were together, two clansmen trying to evade capture. Trying to get the eyes of your people back." 

He laughs, softly. "I'm sorry. No. Kurapika wants me dead." There's a faint edge to his tone, as if he's trying to remind me of my purpose, trying to insist that I go without actually saying it. "I murdered his clan, after all. Each and every one of them. Down to a child of 13." That sets my teeth on edge. I know which child that would be. My best friend _Damn you! _

Neon laughs. "Maybe. But that doesn't mean you're not Kurota too. A renegade, perhaps? Or simply one who got too greedy. It doesn't matter. I'll have your eyes as well as Kurapika's. I don't have to kill you for that. You can consider it a payback for your theft of my skill." Her words put a chill through me. I don't want to think of what she intends to do to me. I _ought_ to consider Quoll losing his eyes to her a kind of ironic justice, but I can't. I'm furious at him, furious at the reminder of what he did, and yet _She's going to tear his eyes out while he's alive Oh god_ I feel sick to my stomach. 

"Ohhh?" Quoll manages to put a tone of amused inquiry in his voice, though I'm almost certain he feels no less ill than I. "Even if I am what you think, there's little value in my eyes in their current state. Are they glowing now? You don't get that glow without getting the owner upset. Do I _look_ upset to you?" 

Neon ponders the question. "True enough. And your eyes didn't glow until just then, so getting beat up more isn't going to help matters." She taps her finger on her lips thoughtfully. "But they _did_ glow. Faintly, of course, but still That says something happened to make you react." 

I realize where she's headed. I always thought of her as not too bright, but it seems I was wrong. I can't see Quoll's expression but I have a feeling it's that of a man who's swallowed a sour lemon. "Yessss," she continues. "I don't think my man yelling at you" 

"WAIT!" Quoll's voice breaks through her musing. At her raised brow, he continues, "I I'll give you my eyes." His head is lowered, dark hair falling around his face. In the light of the flashlight, he seems broken and lost. 

Neon gives an excited squeal. "Get me a knife," she orders, and someone hands her a dagger. "Make them shine for me, Quoll. Make them _glow_." 

Quoll is shuddering. "I will," he promises. "It'll be like nothing you've ever seen before." 

QUOLL: 

Damn that rotten little bastard child anyway. This would have been so much easier if he hadn't decided to hang around. _Did you want to watch me suffer?_ I wonder and realize I've projected as I feel his power rising, egged on by the force of my own. I don't have to see him to know his eyes are glowing brilliant with rage. 

I ignore him as I allow every last dreg of my inner shielding fade. No more _ten._ No more self control. With the pain I'm in, with my anger at Kurapika, with my rage at Neon for what she wants to do to me, it isn't at all hard to summon the Eyes. It is, in fact a miracle that they'd not broken free of my controls so much earlier. I can only hope the effect they have on Kurapika will be mitigated by distance, or his own sense of self-preservation. 

"Tell me," I whisper, feeling the pain rise in my head, the aching searing bewildering confusion that the Eyes inflict on me. "Do you know why the Kurota eyes glow? Do you think it's just a sign of their strong emotions? Or maybe it's something else?" 

"What are you blabbering about. Hurry up! Let me have your Eyes." 

"I will," I promise again. "It takes a bit of time to release." I'm lying, but I want to give Kurapika time to get out. He mustn't stay there. Not now. Not now _please go_ "Everybody has _nen_ capacity, but only Kurota have the Ruby Eyes. Only Kurota have a power that they've concealed in their blood for generations. A power they learned to control, to put towards their protection." 

"Huh?" 

"The power of _nen_ is nothing compared to it. Because of it, they forbade breeding outside their clan. Only a full blood could control it. Only a full blood could master it. Half-bloods, or worse, were a danger to be destroyed, lest that half-blood be their death." I sigh, softly. "But it's not possible to ensure a pure blood line. Every so often there were renegades. Or rapes, or worse. And at least one such half-blood survived. And that one half-blood was, indeed, their death." I lift my head, gazing directly at her, knowing what she's seeing. Not the Ruby Eyes, but something ugly and agonizingly painful to see. "You want my eyes? Try and take them, bitch." I tell her as I let the power go. 

KURAPIKA: 

I shake my head, unable to accept the idea that that fiend is my kin. He cannot be. He's some sort of horror. An abomination. He has to be. I realize as he talks that the power is rising in him and I can feel it swirl and shift in a tsunami of mental energy that carries not only him, but those around him away. As he looks at Neon and she starts screaming, I feel like the center of the room has exploded. 

It hasn't, of course. The power of the Eyes is entirely a mind effect, a hereditary defense that we are taught to carefully control. Quoll isn't controlling this, though, anymore than I had earlier. He's letting loose a flood of raging mind power that sends his captors into hysterics. It isn't doing much for me, either. I do everything I can to block off the effect, clutching the rafter for dear life. Below, people are running and screaming from the dark clad figure at the center of the room. 

Somehow the _nen_ user keeps her head. She grabs Neon and makes a run for it, her strength carrying her out of the building too fast for her to be fully affected by Quoll's released rage. I don't know where they go, but neither do I care. All I know is that Quoll's anger is increasing my own and it is a terrible fight for me not to drop down and attack him. I know my eyes are glowing with my hatred for him. 

I hold onto the rafters, waiting out the effects. Quoll is kneeling in the middle of an emptied room, his body limned by the fallen flashlights. As the rage and fear surrounding him lessen I can feel my own hatred calming. I still would prefer him dead, but it's no longer simply because his power and mine feed off each other. _Was that how my people died? Responding to his presence and forcing him to respond in kind?_ The Ruby Eyes were a defense mechanism, but I couldn't see how his power could be anything but offence. It attacked, it overwhelmed and it destroyed whatever mind was near it. If I'd been closer I would have attacked him mindlessly and been consumed by his Eyes. 

Slowly I climb down, make my way over to where Quoll kneels. His eyes are wide and empty, still gleaming a little with their power. Not, as he himself said, true Ruby Eyes. These glow with bloody light, yes, but they also swirl with other colors, like a demented rainbow. A confused and confusing mix that has its own attraction. _If you like chaos, that is._ Those eyes could drag you down into hell with them. I want so very desperately to kill him. To destroy the source of my anger. To rip his eyes out by the roots. _NO! I cannot! I must not! _

"Quoll?" I whisper, putting a hand out to touch his shoulder. Reaction is immediate. He drops to the ground in a sprawled heap, unconscious. 

To Be Continued 

* * *

Author's Notes: It was the way Quoll's eyes are drawn in the manga that inspired the idea of him being part Kurota. That, combined with what Kurapika's use of the eyes did to that one guy at the auction, made me wonder what the eyes are for. 

Neon may seem a bit out of character here, but two points. She's the spoiled daughter of a Mafioso and she collects human body parts. These aren't things together suggest someone you don't necessarily want to cross. Apologies to any Neon fans out there. 


	4. Chains

An Amusing Interlude - Part 4: Chains - In which Kurapika makes a decision.  
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

* * *

QUOLL: 

I wake slowly, feeling sun on my face and blankets covering me. Now this is different, and a bit disconcerting. My memories are confused. Dim images of the past swirling around me. Ruby Eyes glaring hatred. _No can't think about that_ The memory is too deep, too intense, even now. Years after the event and the very thought of what happened threatens to send me over the edge again. I can't assimilate it, can barely deal with it. I force my thoughts away and find other memories. A swirl of thoughts and concepts not my own. Lesser minds, though, and easier to wipe away entirely. Not like _theirs_. Again I force my thoughts away. 

Taking a deep breath, I lay still. My eyes are shut and I can feel a cloth over them. Another source of near panic. Did Neon get me after all? Am I to be further crippled? I'm almost scared to try opening my eyes. Still, I manage and sigh with relief. I can see. It's just a towel covering the upper half of my face. Through it, I can dimly see the bright sunlight and the ache is intense. 

I lift my hand, intending to remove the towel, to look around, but find that I can't move. I try with the other hand and realize what must be wrong. There's a sting in one finger that tells me he's used my _benz_ on me. _That little Teach me to reveal my weapon secrets to an enemy._ On one hand, it's good to know I'm probably not in Neon's hands. On the other, I'm still stuck with Kurapika. 

I hear the sound of a door opening and closing. Then the towel is pulled off my face. "Good. You're awake." Kurapika's expression reveals nothing, not his anger at me, nor anything else he might be feeling. "I have food." 

My jaw muscles aren't paralyzed enough to prevent speech. "Oh. Good," I say sourly. It seems we've switched roles again and I'm not at all sure I like it. "Where are we?" 

He begins lifting me up and leans me against the pillows. The room could be anywhere, a fairly simple hotel lodging, most likely. "Siulus." At my blank look, he shrugs. "Somewhere to the east of the city. A small town and – hopefully – far enough out of the way that the Nostrads won't be able to find us. I'm hoping what you did to Neon and her men will slow them down, at least." 

"They found you by your _nen_, I would suspect. They still can." I open my mouth and let him put some soup in it. My stomach feels wretched and I have a feeling that the last few hours, possibly days, have not been pleasant ones for either of us. From the taste in my mouth I'm fairly sure I don't want to remember. 

He nods, "I agree," he says with studied calm. "We'll have to keep moving. But you were too sick. I used some _nen_ to heal you back at the warehouse, but I didn't dare do more than the major repairs." 

"We?" I ask, raising a brow and ignoring the rest of his explanation. He's expecting me to go with him, wherever it is he's planning on going? 

"She has even more reason to capture you now," he tells me. "You've got her skill _and_ the rarest type of Ruby Eye there is." 

I let him keep feeding me, thinking hard and fast. On one hand, the color of my eyes aren't likely to be all that valuable, not being the true ruby that Kurapika's are capable of. On the other, they probably _are_ the only ones of their kind. "It's nice to be wanted, I suppose," I mutter at last, swallowing the last of the food. "Is there more?" 

"More food? I'll have to get it from the diner. I wasn't sure how much you could take." 

I shake my head – more a twitch really – and realize the poison's wearing off. "Not that well, more food would be a good idea but is there more reason than the fact that we have a shared danger? If anything, sticking together means that she – or her father – can concentrate their forces on us." That was one of the reasons my Spider stays apart from each other when no job is in the offing. The further apart we are, the less of a target we make. 

"I'm not done with you by a long shot," he tells me. "You killed my clan and you won't tell me why." 

"Nor am I likely to. The Spider keeps its secrets. To the death if it has to," I tell him and add, slyly. "Though if you were to join We _are_ missing a few members right now" I'm pushing his buttons deliberately, testing his temper, testing his reactions. I see a flare of rage in his eyes, feel a flicker of his power before he tamps down on it. "Those friends of yours wouldn't be bad additions either," I tell him. 

"Shut up. There's only so much of your crap I'm taking, Quoll." Kurapika gets up. "I'm going to get more food for you." 

KURAPIKA: 

As I head down the stairs to the restaurant I have to wonder why Quoll is trying so hard to get me angry with him. He doesn't want to go with me, that much is certain, and I'm not sure why I am so adamant that he do so. The fact that he's part kin to me isn't a good enough reason to drag him along. _I ought to kill him and be done with it._

That's the problem though. He'd scored, that night, telling me that I didn't want to kill anyone. Not even the Spider. I'd wanted to destroy them. Scatter them. Yet not kill them. I would have, given good enough reason. A reason such as self-defense or in defense of Gon and Killua. He's right, though. My Chain Jail _isn't_ a weapon for vengeance. It's a weapon intended for some form of justice. 

The trouble is, I begin to have doubts about that justice. He killed my people and he won't explain why. How can I judge his deeds when I can't understand their reasons? I remember what he'd said before we'd fought. 'Shall I tell you how horribly I feel for the deaths of your people? Or say it was a terrible, regrettable, mistake? Or maybe I should tell you that the reason Kurota died is that they brought it down on their own heads?' What if some it were true What if _all_ of it was? What if he came there for some other reason and somehow things got out of hand? 

The questions I have can't be answered without his cooperation. He's not afraid of dying, so that isn't why he won't answer. He's still protecting his Spider. Just as the rest of the Spider protect him from my knowing the truth. Somehow he must fear that what happened will only inflame me more, send me on a vengeance trip again. Maybe I should kill him. _No,_ I decide, getting another bowl of soup and two sandwiches, taking it upstairs with me. _Not until I know the truth. Not when his ravings suggest something more terrible. Harder to bear and the worse because it may mean I have no right to the vengeance I want. _It's not a pleasant thought, but it's one I have to set aside as I open the door and find him gone from his bed. 

QUOLL: 

I lean against the bathroom sink and look at myself in the mirror, glad that the paralysis has worn off. My hair is a greasy mess, my chin covered with stubble, though not thickly. I've been out about a week to a week and a half then. Vague and disturbing memories of sickness and screaming and babbling flicker through my mind. They aren't thoughts I want to consider. I focus on the now, force myself to wash my face, then use Kurapika's razor to clear the stubble. I need a shower, a long, hot shower. 

The door to the bathroom opens and Kurapika blinks at me. "Oh I thought" 

I glance his way. "That I'd run? Where to? In my condition I wouldn't get far." My body is still badly damaged from what Neon's _nen_ user had done to me, despite Kurapika's healing. _Then there's the headache. _It'd taken me over a month to wake up after the last time I'd used the Eyes – I suppose I'm fortunate that I'm up so soon. _But then I only used them for a minute or so not like that time._ I have to force my thoughts away again, I can't think about it. I mustn't. I finish shaving and turn to him. "I'd like to shower before continuing. Unless you want to kill me now, that is." 

He glares at me. "If I was going to kill you I would have done it while you were asleep. Or just left you to die of exposure." 

"No you wouldn't," I tell him, allowing myself a superior little smirk. _Quoll, you must like playing with fire, picking on him this way._ Or maybe it's just that I don't dare let him get close. Don't dare risk him learning truths better left alone. Truths that he's absolutely determined to know. "You aren't the sort to kill a helpless man. Even if he _is_ the murderer of your entire family." 

He growls a curse at me and slams the door, adding, a moment later, "There's another bowl of soup and a sandwich. Finish up before the soup gets cold." 

I turn to the bath and start the water warming. 

KURAPIKA: 

_Damn him, anyway. Try to be nice and he just gets bitchier._ It's not like it's easy to be kind to him, either. He's the killer of my people _as he keeps reminding me_ I realize he's trying to keep me away, to keep me from getting too near to his truths and I wonder what he fears. It's likely to be for his Spider, but I have the oddest feeling that there's more behind it than that. 

I go over to the package of clothing I'd gotten him while he was unconscious. He's a bit taller than I, but not a lot heavier. I'd chosen accordingly, finding him something in black, if only because I couldn't picture him in anything else. It's probably too large but the belt will keep the jeans from falling around his ankles and a too large T-shirt is better than one too small. 

Opening the door to the bathroom a crack, I can hear the sound of him humming something as he showers. I don't recognize the song, but it's relatively cheerful, considering he must be hurting like hell. I'd done my best with his injuries, but I'd had to be quick in order to avoid notice by whatever _nen_ user it who'd found me for the Nostrads. I'd limited my efforts to his internal injuries. The external – bruises, cuts and scrapes – had had to heal on their own and his skin has be stinging from the soap and water. "Quoll. There's clothing on the towel rack for you," I call, then close the door before he answers. I don't really want to risk his current attitude infuriating me all the more. 

Stepping out on the balcony with the sandwich I'd bought myself, I sit down in one of the chairs, watching the people wandering around the town square. I wish Senritsu was with me. She could have told me what he was feeling. _Though she couldn't answer for much the last time._ I remembered how horrible it had been for her. My anger and his composure. What was it she said? _A happy melody?_

It occurs to me that part of the answer lies in that prophecy of Neon's. She couldn't tell me what it'd contained, but from what _he'd_ told me, from the way the Ryodan had behaved, they knew they were at risk. Knew some of them were going to die. Except he wasn't one of the doomed. So either he was happy because he knew nothing I did would matter or _ or he wanted me to kill him so that the prophecy would be broken._ It occurs to me that he _let_ me capture him, all to determine my weakness, even knowing it would probably be his death. 

_And he did find a weakness. He knows only too well that I don't want to kill. I wonder if he realizes that I will if I have to?_ I shake my head. All that may not matter at the moment. I need to find out the truth and I need to figure out a way to keep him under control. A memory comes to me. Something from my childhood. When my mother had come down with a fever _That might do it,_ I realize. But what I need is somewhere far from here. May not even exist anymore. Still, I'll have to try. 

The sound of a step at the doorway causes me to turn my head. The clothes I got him fit, barely. He's had to turn the pants legs up a bit. The T-shirt's not so bad, loose, yes, but not falling off him. With his hair tousled around his face he looks more like a teenager than the grim, dangerous, leader of the Genei Ryodan. Even the cross on his forehead looks innocent, the work of a child trying to imitate the adults. 

Reminded of a question I'd had over the course of caring for him, I can't help but ask, "I thought all your bunch had a spider tattooed on you?" 

QUOLL: 

I blink at the question, surprised. It occurs to me that he's had ample time in the last week to find out what marks are and aren't on my body, though, so I just point to my forehead. "It's stylized." The arms of the cross I wear are actually three legs each of a twelve-limbed spider, one straight, the two surrounding it bent away and back, then darkened in. At the very center a tiny 13. All very symbolic, no doubt. Not to mention convenient for other purposes. 

Kurapika frowns, gets up and stares at my forehead intently and I'm suddenly very glad the tattoo artist had been able to cover up the rest of the number with black. "Oh. I see," he says finally. "Hidden in plain sight, then." He walks over to the balcony, looking thoughtful. "Put your soup down, would you?" 

Somehow I know what's coming. "Don't want to break the bowl?" I ask, setting it down. There's no point in running. I just don't have the strength right now. It had taken everything I had to make it through the shower. 

"Something like that," he agrees. Then he wraps Chain Jail around me, the chains tightening around me so closely that I could barely breathe. _I'm beginning to get tired of this thing,_ I think, even as he does something that sends searing agony through my heart. 

As I collapse to my knees I hear him saying, "If I thought I could trust you not to run right now I wouldn't have chained you. But I have to change the rules, and that means taking the old Judgment Chain off you." 

I look at him, knowing that my resentment of this treatment is showing. I'd like to ask him if he has any idea how much it hurts, but that would mean admitting more than I dare. Instead I just wait for him to do what he thinks he has to. I wonder what new torture he's devised for me. 

KURAPIKA: 

He's in pain and a part of me would like to revel in it, but that's a part of me I don't want to allow control. A part I don't want to accept or cater to. There's no point in playing games. No point in trying to force the truth from him with pain or fear of death. Neither bothers him. I'm still not sure why the risk to me had broken past his composure that night, but I do know it has a lot to do with why I'm doing this. 

"First," I tell him. "You will travel with me. No specific distance between us, but you have to stay around and go where I go within as short a time period possible and stay as close as is reasonable for two men traveling together." He blinks at me, startled, and I continue. "Second, you will do nothing harmful to me or yourself. That means no attacking me physically or getting someone else to attack me for you. Nor are you to do or say anything that would make me attack you. I don't expect you shut up entirely, but you're not to push it. If I tell you to be quiet, you stop. Understand?" 

His eyes are wide and confused, but he nods, slowly. What I've done ensures he could contact his Spider again. Could even bring them out of the woodwork to follow us and find ways around my second rule. It also returns his _nen_ to him, since I can't put more than two rules on one person. I'm pushing things with the second rule anyway, with all the clarifications. 

At his nod I let my Judgment Chain dangle free and swing it. He twitches, convulses as it hits and I feel a certain sympathy. I have one in my own heart, part of what ensures the Chain Jail's strength against him, and I know it hurts. I hadn't cared, the night I'd put it on him before, but that's changed. 

As I release him from the Chain Jail he rises to his feet and sits down, rubbing at his chest with a rueful expression. "I don't suppose you'd tell me where you're thinking of going?" 

I shrug. "Home." 

QUOLL: 

I nearly choke on my soup. "HOME?" I feel the Eyes trying to break free and am forced to lock down on the power. My hands start to shake. "" 

"There are things I need to do there." He eyes me. "Do you have any objections?" 

_Dozens,_ I want to say, but am silent. It's all I can do to hold back the fear. To hold back the rage that wants to let itself loose all over again. "Why should I? It's empty. There are no ghosts there to haunt me, if that's what you hope." No, the ghosts are all in my head, all locked in my memory and forced into hiding by my will. 

"Then that's where we'll go." He finishes his sandwich and stands up. "We'll need to get some supplies. I couldn't drag you and your stuff with me." 

I take refuge in mundania. "My books? You _left_ my _books_?" It's easier to deal with that fact than where he wants us to go. 

Kurapika frowns at me. "I grabbed a couple. I wasn't going to carry a whole library with me. It's amazing how many you've collected in one month." At my irritated expression he adds, "We can go back to the warehouse when we go in to the city. If you think it's safe." 

I consider that and sigh. It _isn't_ safe and the likelihood is pretty good that if Neon made it out she, or rather her father, would have sent someone keeping a watch on my hideout now. "No. I'll just have to find some new ones on the way." It's an irritant, but a minor one. More importantly, it distracted me from the larger disturbance of my impending doom. 

_No, doom is an exaggeration, surely,_ I think to myself. I can handle it. The memories hidden in my mind say I'm wrong, but I refuse to acknowledge them. I dare not give them substance by doing so. Instead, I finish my soup and follow Kurapika into the room. "So, what supplies do you think we'll need?" 

KURAPIKA: 

I gaze down at our luggage with a frown and glance at Quoll. He's changed now into the new clothing he bought during our shopping trip, using a name and credit rating I was almost sure wasn't his to use. Tight pants, boots, trench coat and a loose shirt of pure silk, all in basic black with various subtle and not so subtle designs on them. _What is it with that cross thing anyway?_ He was looking a lot more like himself, though he'd left his hair loose, covering his forehead with a white bandana. "Exactly how are we going to get all this anywhere?" I ask, a little annoyed with myself for having let him buy so much. "And who did you steal the card from?" 

He laughs, a startlingly pleasant sound, and I realize it's the first time I've ever heard him be really amused. "Well, in the end, I suppose it _is_ stolen goods. But the credit rating belongs to one of my aliases. As for carrying them" A book with a palm print on its cover appears in his hand and he flips it open. For a moment he pauses, looking at the book almost fondly and I realize he's pleased to have his power back. As I step back, startled, he materializes a blanket and tosses it over the luggage. A second later it's shrunk down to a mere handful. Both book and blanket dematerialize as he closes it. 

"One of your stolen _nen_?" It irritates me, but I force back the annoyance. I _know_ he's a thief and worse. Getting upset about it now, when I've decided to drag him with me, isn't going to help matters. 

Quoll picks up our luggage and hands the pile to me. "Of course," he agrees. "A handy one, too, wouldn't you say?" He sticks his hands in the pockets of his coat and waits for me to react. When I don't, he shrugs and adds, "So. Shall we go?" 

I pause, looking at him directly, meeting his dark eyes with an expression I hope is serious. "I don't want to spend this trip giving people back their stuff. And I intend to pay our way." I'm still not sure why I'd let him pay for the luggage we just bought. Though I have to admit it'll make our trip into the hinterlands easier. We have to fly part of the way, but my tribe's lands are hidden in remote mountains so far from any civilization that we'll need the camping supplies he'd chosen. 

He blinks at me thoughtfully, then shrugs and bows deeply. "As you command, master." 

_Damn,_ I think. _This is going to be a long trip._

To Be Continued 

* * *

Author's Notes: Thanks to Yukiko and Blunt for your reviews. Ego boo is SOOO good for the author, oh yes indeed it is. 

Quoll's Spider Tattoo: Well, it certainly isn't on his chest. It could, of be on his back, butt or some other intriguing location. I've seen fan art with it on the back, but nothing certain. It merely amuses me to speculate that the forehead cross was intended to be his version of the Spider. 

Quoll's Eyes: I have noted a similarity in eyes between Killua's family and Quoll as well. One wonders. One does indeed wonder, especially considering recent events in Shonen Jump. (SFX: Kosagi jumping up and down on Togashi doll whining "GIVE ME MORE QUOLL, DANG IT!") 


	5. Colleagues

An Amusing Interlude: Part 5 – Colleagues – In which those who travel together must work together.   
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

* * *

QUOLL: 

I stare at the words on the page, too tired to quite work out their meaning. It's been a long day and I'm getting tired. Beside me, Kurapika has already nodded off. I sip at my wine, watching the stewardess move through the cabin. I think I may be the only one awake aside from the crew. I should be sleeping too. We still have five hours to go and I've slept little in the last couple of days. 

My thoughts are interrupted by someone rising from their seat and walking past me. Some instinct makes me follow her with my eyes. She sets off my alarm bells, though I couldn't say how. Her movements aren't furtive, if anything they're direct, as if her destination is perfectly innocent. She steps into the toilet and I look back at my book. _Paranoia, apparently._ It's a strong force, though, and I find myself keeping an eye on the door. 

Not nearly long enough later, she steps out and glances back towards the stewardess, who's busy helping a young man who's seated towards the back of the plane. Now my paranoia gets a touch more intense. When the girl walks further forward, I call up my Skill book. Invisibility should do the trick, at least long enough to get me to the cockpit. I don't know how many allies she has – the one in the far back at the least – and the last thing I want is interference. 

The Skill I'm using isn't one for a fight. It requires too much concentration. In jobs like this, where stealth is needed, it's invaluable. It doesn't actually turn me invisible, but it causes people not to notice what I'm doing. A _nen_ user could probably penetrate the illusion, but they'd have to know that it existed. 

Walking to the front, I listen as the girl tells the pilot there's a bomb on the plane and that he is to land in Maraphul. Then I return to my seat. "Kurapika." 

He wakes instantly. "Something's wrong." He doesn't have bother asking, sensing it from the tone in my voice. 

"We're being hijacked. There is, apparently, a bomb on board. Can you use one of your chains to find it?" 

His blue-grey eyes glance forward, then at me. "Yes." A shake of his hand releases one chain, the one with the ball at the tip and he begins swinging it lightly in front of him. When it raises and points up above our heads, he says, "In the luggage compartment." 

"Others?" 

KURAPIKA: 

I give Quoll a sharp glare. His dark eyes are distant, as if his mind is on a hundred different things. His tone, on the other hand, is commanding. The tone of one used to giving the orders and expecting them obeyed instantly. I consider reminding him that he's not talking to one of his Spiders, but realize something else at the same time. He's right. I'm not a strategist and I'm not experienced in this sort of thing. I don't know if the hijackers will kill us or hold us for ransom and neither possibility appeals. 

Focusing my attention on my chains again, I search around the plane. "That's the only one." 

"Weapons?" 

A moment later I answer, "I can find guns on three. I need to have an idea of what to look for though, and if they have a weapon I don't know" 

His gaze defocuses further. "Chain Jail?" 

"Useless unless they're Ryodan," I answer, regretting both the fact and the need to admit it. I hate letting him learn so much about my abilities. _And what did you think was going to happen, traveling with him?_ I ask myself sourly. No matter how short our journey might be, the likelihood of my not needing my _nen_ is nearly infinitesimal. 

He nods. "I thought that might be the case. All right. Identify the people with weapons for me. Once I take care of the bomb they'll be next." 

When I've done so, he stands up, "You'll get a stiff neck, sleeping like that," he tells me in a louder voice. "Stewardess? Are there pillows up there?" He glances back at the woman dealing with one of the other passengers behind us and points towards the luggage compartment above us. The hijackers are apparently doing their best to keep her distracted, which I think is playing into his plans as well. 

"Yes, sir. If you'll wait a moment" 

"That's all right. I can get it," Quoll tells her, smiling genially. I can see why Neon had been charmed, that night before the auction. "Thank you." 

"Be careful, sir. The luggage will have shifted." Still, the stewardess looks sort of relieved to not have another distraction to deal with. 

Standing up and stretching slightly, Quoll puts one hand closer to his chest and materializes his book. As his other hand opens the compartment he flips it open. When a blanket not quite matching the color of the airplane blankets drops down, then is swooped up into the luggage compartment, I realize he's using his stolen skill to shrink its contents. 

QUOLL: 

I sit back down and hold out my hand to Kurapika, showing him the miniaturized luggage. "Check it," I order, voice low as I put a pillow behind him with the other hand. His chain swings free again, makes a tiny motion straight towards what I hold and I sigh in relief, picking the suitcase out from among the others and dropping it in my pocket. Transformed like this, the bomb is in stasis. Even if the hijackers set it off it won't explode. I pat him on the head, adding in somewhat louder voice, "You should go back to sleep. I'm going to stretch my legs a bit." 

His glare just makes me grin. I do so enjoy teasing him. It's the only way I can get back at him for what he's done to me, after all. In a softer voice I add, "The best I can do is the one in the cockpit and one other. Be prepared to back me up." 

Kurapika's sour look is followed by a nod of confirmation. I pat him on the head again and get up before he can bite me. He certainly looks like he would if he didn't know it would get us noticed. 

As I get up, I eye the three men Kurapika's dowsing had identified as having weapons. One, a large, mid-eastern looking man in front of us looks almost too good to be true. The sort of person who would have been stripped searched at every possible checkpoint – and a few times more just for good measure. Considering that security was nervous about Kurapika's bracelet chains – as innocent as _he_ looks – I found it hard to believe such a man could have gotten away with carrying a weapon on board. 

As I pass the man I let myself stumble, taking advantage of a slight shift in the plane's motion. Landing in his lap makes picking his pocket child's play. Then, to his growls of annoyance and my own apologies, I make my way to the washroom. 

KURAPIKA: 

_Now why'd he do that?_ I wonder, watching Quoll do his little stumble routine. It surely wasn't in order to disable the man. Not when his victim's growls of annoyance resemble nothing so much as a large bear woken from a deep sleep. 

I watch him go into the washroom and try to decide what to do next. I have to let him begin things, since I don't know his plans, but I can work out a plan of attack none the less. I begin planning trajectories for my attack chain, working out the best way to hit each of the three men I'd identified for Quoll. I can't choose my first target until I know which one he'll go for. 

Something brushes at my mind. A touch that becomes a sharp stab of pain that makes me long to find its source and wipe it out of existence. _The man Sky Marshall. Leave alone_ Then the touch is gone and I sit there, trying to regain my breath, heart throbbing so fast I think it'll burst. 

I want very much to chase Quoll down and attack him. Something about his power, about its touch, sends me into a frenzy. I hate him, both for what he's done and for what he is, but I can control it – as long as our minds don't interact. He must know it too, which means he took the risk for a reason. 

Glancing forward at the man Quoll had stumbled into, I find it hard to believe he's a Sky Marshall. Yet it would make sense and now that I think about it, I see that he's almost too good to be true. Too obviously a questionable character to be what he seems. Now I can understand why Quoll made sure I knew. Taking down the hijackers will be complicated enough without mistaking a potential ally for enemy. Besides, that means that if Quoll gets two then there's only one left for me. I can get one person with my attack chains without a problem. 

The door to the bathroom opens and Quoll steps out, Skill Book in hand. I'm surprised to see how pale he is. From this distance I can't be sure, but I think there's a faint sheen of sweat on his face. _From using the Eyes?_ I wonder. He doesn't look my way and something about his posture says he's almost afraid to. _Expecting me to launch myself at him? _

Something happens around him then and he seems to fade from view. Or rather I find myself no longer interested in looking his way. Another of his stolen Skills, obviously. Since there's no reason to watch him, I lean my head back and wait for him to make the next move. There's still two men in back to deal with. 

QUOLL: 

I feel my head swim as I move towards the cockpit door, even while I damn the Kurota Eyes and everything associated with it – including and especially my own. If it hadn't been absolutely necessary to warn Kurapika I would have just gone on with my part in things. Leaving things to chance, however, is a dangerous business. One which I'm philosophically opposed to in situations like this. 

I'd like – very much – to go back and slap Kurapika silly. Two things prevent me. One, his Judgment Chain would kill me if I did. Two, it isn't his fault. Not his fault that my Eyes create an aura of enmity that neither of us can control. Not his fault that I have next to no control over them. Not his fault that that tiny bit of communication took all my concentration to keep from grabbing every mind in the area and sucking them dry. Not his fault that he hates me. 

_All of which angsting is not getting you anywhere nearer to solving the current problem, Lucifer Quoll,_ I grumble as I open the cockpit door and step through, closing it quickly behind me. 

The hijacker is watching the pilots carefully, but the door opening is enough to draw her attention to me. That's one of the unfortunate aspects to this Skill. If you do something that affects the environment it reveals your presence. In a larger area I could make a dive and restore my concealment, but in this tiny space such an effort is hopeless. I drop my Skill Book and look around the cockpit with a confused air. "Oh dear. Am I disturbing something?" I finger my _benz_ blade's hilt, having restored it to its normal size, and smile sweetly at the woman. 

She turns and fires at me, not even bothering with the niceties. Fortunately, her silencer destroys her aim and I'm able to dodge the bullet and, in the same motion, get close enough to cut her with my knife. She collapses instantly, eyes staring wildly, gasping curses. 

"Mister! You shouldn't have" 

I look at the pilot. "The bomb is taken care of. Return to your previous course." 

Pale eyes stare at me from pale features. "But" 

"Don't worry. My partner and I will help with the other hijackers." I sheathe my blade and slide it back up into my sleeve. "If only because we want to make it to our destination without delays. Now, this is what I need you to do." 

KURAPIKA: 

"Would Andrew Mullins please come forward to the cockpit?" The pilot's voice is shaky and I see the Sky Marshal ahead of me look up with a puzzled expression. At the same time one of the other two men I'd identified gets out of his seat and saunters forward. 

I glance back at the other man, preparing to make my move. As the first man enters the cockpit and the door closes behind him I release my chain, letting it fly upwards, twist and angle its way back to strike the man mid forehead. There's a sharp sound and a gasp of pain, but my aim is good. He slumps unconscious. With so many people asleep, or drowsing, my action goes unnoticed. 

The cockpit door opens and Quoll steps out, glancing back towards the second man. He nods slightly, walks past the Sky Marshall and says something very softly into his ear. At which point the man leaps up, pushing past him and rushing up to the front. 

Quoll comes over and sits down beside me. "Rude," he comments wryly. "And after all we did for him. Nice shot, by the way." 

"Did you kill them?" I can't help but ask, ignoring the compliment. 

He glances my way. "Try saying thank you, first." At my expression he continues, "Here. It isn't hard. 'Thank you, Quoll, for the compliment you just gave me.'" His lips compress a little as he looks at me. 

I take a deep breath. "You're pushing it." 

"Really? Believe me, I've not yet _begun _pushing." He gives me a sharp eyed glare and I realize that he's in an irritable and unhappy mood. "I have no choice about coming with you. I have no choice but to let you drag me along by your damned Judgment Chain. I can't attack you and I can't do anything that will make you mad enough to attack me. Whereas _you_ get to harangue me all you like." 

I want to scream at him but something in his eyes dares me to. Dares me to push him to the point of breaking the Judgment on him. He's testing the edges of his freedom, I realize. Testing my patience because he chafes at what I've done to him. 

Before I can say anything, though, a heavyset woman in a colorful caftan stands up and walks towards the front. We both pause in our argument and watch her apprehensively. As she flings open the cockpit door, though, the Sky Marshall is standing there, pointing his pistol at her. "I wouldn't," he says. 

QUOLL: 

Watching the scene, I realize that she must be an unarmed back up. _Either that or she's_ The blinding flash of light that throws the Marshall back answers that question. Another _nen_ user. _Why the _hell_ didn't I have Kurapika look for that too?_ The answer, of course, was simple. Just because someone had _nen_ skills didn't mean they were automatically suspect. 

"Quoll" 

"I'll handle this, Kurapika." I tell him. 

He looks at me, suspiciously and I give him a sweet little smile before rising to my feet. Others are doing much the same and the woman has swung around to glare at us. "Don't move. There's a bomb on this plane and I have the ability to set it off any time." 

Startled cries follow the woman's announcement and most of the people sit. Two others, however, move towards her, though I can tell they're scared. "I told you to back off!" she yells, tossing another blast of light at one. It hits him in the face and he screams, falling to the ground. An intriguing talent that. The creation of plasma blasts. Not unlike old man Zoldick's talent, though not as elegantly formed. I continue forward, drawing my Skill Book out. 

_A shield this time,_ I decide, choosing quickly. "I didn't expect a _nen_ user in this group," I tell the woman as she turns her attention my way. Between us, people cower in their seats. Knowing Kurapika, he'd be pissed if I let someone get hurt, so I stride quickly up the aisle so there's no one in the way. "What an intriguing talent." 

She laughs. "Another _nen_ user? So, you're the one who interfered with us. You'll pay." 

"Possibly I will," I agree happily. "It's all a matter of luck and skill. I do hope you have a decent skill." 

"My plasma blasts will char you to ash!" she screams at me and I grin even more broadly, bringing up my shield to block the one she fires at me. _That's two._ Get the third now and the fourth is cake. _I have to love the way people walk into that requirement. Seems not many are willing to keep their mouths shut about their nen. _

The unfortunate thing is that I have to drop the shield to finish this. I close the book in my hand a bit regretfully as I reach her. It would have helped if Kurapika could bop her one, but I suspect that he's not likely to cooperate at the moment. Not with what I want to do. Not when he's made his opinion clear. 

She sees my shield drop and laughs triumphantly, firing off a blast that I dodge only partially. My shoulder takes the shot and I have to bite back a cry of pain. Then I'm on her, grabbing her by the hand, pressing it to the cover. Three and Four. _GOT IT!_

She raises her hand, trying to fire another blast at point blank range. When nothing happens she stares at her fingers, unable to believe they've failed her. It gives me a chance to drop her in her tracks with a quick blow to her chin. 

KURAPIKA: 

I watch the woman fall with a mix of relief and annoyance. In the middle of the air, on a crowded plane, and he wastes his time stealing her _nen_. Even more irritating is the fact that he's gotten himself hurt in the process. I get up, hurry forward as he drops onto the floor and slumps against the wall. 

Pulling out my healing chain, I focus its power on his shoulder, kneeling beside him. He barely notices me, just sits with closed eyes, taking long, deep, breaths. At last, when the healing is over, he looks at me. "Thank you," he says. "That was closer than usual." 

"What the hell did you think you were _doing_?" I demand. "You nearly got yourself killed playing around like that." 

He blinks at me, that peculiar look in his eyes again. "The words you're looking for are 'You're welcome'," he points out dryly. "Are you planning on helping the others? Or would you prefer to let them writhe around in pain while you quarrel with me?" 

I snarl something in my clan language and turn to the nearest man. As I'm healing him, Quoll comments wryly, "I doubt it's physically possible for me to do that." It barely registers on me that he understood what I'd told him to do. It's not until I'm done with the Sky Marshal that I realize and when I turn to ask him how he knew he's already gone back to his seat. 

"I have to thank the two of you," my patient says, sitting up. "But Who are you?" His dark eyes, set in heavy, swarthy, features are confused. 

I pull out my Hunter's license, showing it to him. "We were just in the right place at the right time," I tell him and hope he makes the assumption that Quoll is a Hunter as well. "If you're okay, though, I'd better sit back down." 

He nods. "I'll need to debrief you two when we land, though. Would you mind?" 

I don't like it, but realize it's better to stay on authority's good side right now. I nod and go back to my seat, sliding past Quoll. He's leaning back, eyes closed, but I sense he's awake. "We have to talk to them after we land." 

"Surprise." 

I look at him. It's really not fair that he can look as innocent as that. I have to remind myself that he's not. That his boyish features hide a mind as convoluted and complex as Machiavelli. _And not a lot nicer._ "Why did you waste your time on that?" I ask. 

"Wasn't a waste," he answers. "I got her power. At the expense of a good shirt and some pain. All things considered, it's worth the trade." He settles more deeply into the seat. "Now, I'm tired. Save scolding me for later." 

To Be Continued 

* * *

Author's notes: 

My Partner in Crime – who is reading this and making comments privately, would have me know that a quoll is a marmoset and a close cousin to the Tasmanian Devil. They are, apparently, also vicious enough – despite their general air of 'cute' (at least to me) – to take on their larger kin. Talk about a strangely apropos name for our Dancho. See 

Yukiko: I always like to thank the reviewers. Especially when they say such nice things to me. I'm glad no one's screaming bloody murder about my making Quoll a Kurota (Kurata? Karuta? ARGHH!). Glad you're having fun with this. As for not killing each other. It's going to be a close one, I think. (Kurapika: I would like to point out that quoll are endangered species. He keeps opening his mouth, he's going to be even more endangered.) 

XD: Hey! Cool to get a review from someone whose fic I've been enjoying. Your Kurumon fic is a lovely, amusing, piece. (Points at XD's fic and suggests others read it too.) I want more, you know. Much much more. The first person POV is even *MORE* prickly in present tense. I don't know why I do things like this to myself. (Gallery: Masochism. Pure plain masochism. Kosagi: Shut up you bunch.) I understand about the POV switches getting confusing sometimes. If you catch an obvious pronoun problem, please, let me know. I think that's one of my weak points. Oh, could you tell me where in the anime the spider on Quoll's arm shows up? I might be able to use it to check the manga. Though I have my doubts. I'm pretty sure the only non anime art that ever shows the spider is fanart, darn it, and that on his back! And yes, the anime does vary somewhat from the manga. It's an alternate universe Yeah that's the ticket. 

Lynlyn: And *another* review from someone with a good fic. Yours is *very* good, Lynlyn. (Points again and says suggests reading that one too.) Don't let worry if there's a similarity in phrases. I won't scream. I like where "Wild Hearts" has been going and want very much to see more. Quoll's name drives me batshit too. I used that spelling for a couple of different reasons, one of which is the aforementioned beastie and the other will be explained later. Re: Recent events. I'll email you to avoid spoilers, 'kay? 


	6. Chase

An Amusing Interlude – Part 6: Chase – In which the past catches up with us.   
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

* * *

QUOLL: 

"So you realized what was up and decided to interfere?" Abram Sirsun asks as he sits across from us at the table. "I can't really argue with the results, but It was a bit dangerous." 

I shrug. "More dangerous than what they were planning for us? They had a bomb on board after all" 

"All the more reason that what you did was risky." 

Another shrug and I answer, "Do you think they would have hesitated to kill everyone, including themselves, if they didn't get what they wanted?" I glance at Kurapika, who isn't looking too happy with me right now. "And, after all, we didn't know you were aboard. Frankly, at first we thought you were one of them." I'm reminded that I still have his wallet and hand it back to him. 

Sirsun looks rather like he's swallowed a rotten egg whole. "You picked my pocket when you fell on me" At my smile, he sighs. "All right. I guess there really isn't much else to say except" He eyes me, expression thoughtful, as if wondering if he ought to say something and not sure how. 

"Except?" 

"_Dodake, Danchou._" 

I blink, it's my turn to be startled. Still, bowing my head, I reply, "_Ca veste, Shir Sirsun._" 

He rises to his feet and looks at Kurapika. "And thank you as well, young sir. The two of you were a great help. I've made sure a car is ready for you in back. Please feel free to take it as far as you need to go." 

When he's gone, Kurapika stares at me. "What the hell was all that about?" 

I stand up, picking up my coat. "He's from Star City. He was thanking me for our help, and I, unlike certain rude young men, was telling him he's welcome." I should have recognized his accent earlier. Too many distractions, no doubt. 

"Star City? Like you" Kurapika looks thoughtful as he gathers his things together. "He called you Danchou He knows who you are And is letting us go despite it" 

"_Because_ of it," I correct, opening the door and gesturing for Kurapika to precede me. "One thing you might want to keep in mind, Kurapika. To you, the Genei Ryodan are an evil blot upon the universe. To most of the public we're thieves and murderers. To the inhabitants of Star City We're heroes." 

KURAPIKA: 

I sit in the car as Quoll drives, eyes on the road ahead of us. I'm in a sour mood and not inclined to talk. Not that he cares. The radio is blaring some pop song and he's singing along happily. _It's a moronic song, too. He's doing it to be annoying, isn't he?_

Glancing his way, though, it looks more like he's simply enjoying a pleasant drive. The window on his side is down and blowing his hair and he looks too cheerful to be believed. Sometimes I have to wonder about him. I know we're going where he doesn't want to go, after all. 

Other thoughts are intruding on me. An idea that has been bouncing around in my head ever since he stole that woman's _nen_. "You could have just killed that woman. Why didn't you?" 

Quoll stops singing and shrugs. "I needed her Skill." 

"So? What was stopping you from killing her afterwards?" I ask, watching his face. His expression shifts, becomes guarded. The face of the Ryodan's leader, instead of a kid on a joy ride. "Everything I've heard about you people says you don't hesitate to kill." 

"In front of an audience? Scarcely a good idea," he answers lightly, though that guarded expression hasn't changed. 

"She was going to kill you. She would have killed everyone on board. I doubt anyone would have mourned." Narrowing my eyes, I add, "It's your _nen_ isn't it? Just like my conditions for Chain Jail. You can't kill the source of the power you steal." 

He stares blankly at the road ahead of us. At last he says, "One of the biggest mistakes _nen_ users make is explaining their abilities. Do you think I'm stupid enough to do that?" 

I go silent, watching him and thinking. He's made no admissions, but I know I'm right. That I've guessed at something important. That blanket trick of his had belonged to one of a group of _nen_ users the Ryodan had captured. He had appeared to be dead, but I'd heard that the body – like those found after the Ryodan's attack on the auction – had been faked, though no one knew where the guy had disappeared to. I remember what Quoll said about _my_ chosen conditions and have to wonder. _Does he not kill his victims because he can't? Or because he doesn't want to? _

I turn my eyes away from him and notice something in the rearview mirror. _That car It looks familiar. _

"We're being followed." Quoll's calm confirmation of what I suspect only startles me because it shows how well he reads me. I really wish he wasn't so good at doing that. "Nostrad, I'd say. There's just something about the Mafia that not even native dress can hide. You think they breed 'em to look that way?" 

I watch the car, ignoring Quoll's banter. "How'd they find us?" 

"Likely who ever it is that's watching for your _nen_. Considering we were over the ocean at the time, we had to be either on a plane or a ship. All they had to do was find out whether there was a plane that had run into some sort of trouble." He speaks as if he was fully expecting this and I suppose he must have been. "I'm trying to find a good place for a fight. There's only six in the car, so at least one, more likely all, are _nen_ users. Possibly one will be the woman from before, possibly another. They may or may not have realized I was with them, but since they think I'm _nen_ free at the moment." 

I glance his way. "There's still the Eyes." 

"I think they'd consider that worth the risk. The more fool they," he answers, dryly. "Neon, bless her perverted little heart, is very attached to getting her own way. Too, as long as I have her _nen_ her father's going to have to do everything in his power to get it back." He shrugs. "They'll try and knock me out first, most likely. I'm not sure what kind of threat they consider you, but they brought 20 men and a _nen_ user that last time." He goes silent and his eyes distant again as he plots. "We get out of sight long enough to split up a bit. Not far, obviously, but we need them to split up, too. I'll deal with the ones that follow me and you handle yours, then meet back at the car." 

Last night's fight and his easy assumption of command had rankled. Now, with no one to hear us, I feel no compunction about demanding, "Who put _you_ in charge?" 

QUOLL: 

Kurapika's sudden sharp question startles me. Pondering it momentarily, I realize what he means. "Hmmm. I suppose it isn't reasonable to treat you like one of my Spiders," I admit. "I apologize for being rude, then. The question is, do you have a better idea?" 

His expression shifts to confusion, as if he had expected a different response. At last he shakes his head. "Not really." Looking ahead, he adds, "But won't it risk the Judgment?" 

I'd already thought about that. "You gave me a certain amount of latitude," I tell him. "It's not reasonable for us to stay together at this point, so we separate a bit, then come back together. As long as my intent is to go back as soon as I've dealt with my attackers I should be all right." I'm not absolutely certain of that, but who says life has to be certain? 

"All right," he says. "Then does that area up there suit?" He points off towards the forest to our left. "Plenty of cover." 

"A game of hide and seek," I agree, scanning for ways to get close. He points again, further up the road. "I had to come down this way when I left home. There's a road further up into the mountains through those woods just about a mile ahead. We would have been taking it anyway." 

Nodding, I keep our speed level until we're almost there, then gun the motor, spinning us over onto the road – more a dirt trail – in question. Kurapika grabs hold of the door and seat, but makes no protest. 

Behind us I see our pursuit pass the road and screech to a halt. I push our speed, gritting my teeth against the thumping and bumping as we race into the woods. As we turn a corner, I stop the car and throw myself out, rolling into the underbrush. On the other side I can hear Kurapika doing the same. 

Then I'm up and running, deeper into the woods. 

KURAPIKA: 

I grew up in a place similar to this, if not even more thickly forested. It's easy for me to work my way through the underbrush. At last, though, I'm forced to use one of my chains to pull me up into one of the trees. Somewhere behind me I can hear someone crashing through the woods. Two big men, guns in their hands. One spots me and fires, but I use my chain to block the shot. It's a good thing, too, because what hits my whirling chain is a blast of _nen_ energy not unlike what Quoll had faced the night before, though more bullet like in its appearance. 

Swinging the chain around, I use it to redirect the force of his attack back at him. With a startled yell, he goes down, rolling around through the dirt to avoid the flames. The other man fires at me, but his bullets are even easier to deflect. _Not a nen user? Or just biding his time?_ I decide not to waste time testing that out and send my chain at him in a single direct blow. He falls to the ground in a heap. 

Another blast from the _nen_ user comes at me and I barely leap out of its way. Then I call on the Ruby Eyes and send my attack chain flying off at an angle. "Hah!" he yells. "Missed!" He starts to aim, only to be struck in the back of the head as my chain ricochets off several different trees, angling its way back at him. 

Dropping to the ground, I look at the two. Deeply unconscious, they're no longer a threat. Yet it seems to me that this was too easy. Without looking around, I listen, but there's no sound Except, that is, for a distant yelling that tells me that the others must have caught up with Quoll. I ignore that, letting my dowsing chain drop. _There's someone else here. Where._

The chain swings sideways and I turn in that direction. Nothing seems to be there, but a faint oddity makes me peer more closely. This guy's another _nen_ user. Some sort of chameleon power that he's using to sneak up on me. When he realizes he's been discovered, though, he starts throwing small daggers my way. So many that I'm hard put to block them all. I dodge behind a tree and throw my chain at him, but miss. He's hard to see and hard to keep up with because of his ability. 

_Right. Only one other way to do it, then._ I drop the attack chain again and extend my dousing chain, throwing it in his general direction and letting its nature do the rest. I can't put nearly the strength into it I can the attack chain, but I don't need to. It strikes him mid forehead and knocks him cold. 

Sighing, fairly sure there are no more, I head back towards the car. 

QUOLL: 

I don't like forests. Give me the jungle of the city over trees and vines and green things any day. _Especially green things that insist on hitting me straight in the middle of the face,_ I think dodging below another branch, only to run into a lower one. Fortunately, there's a clearing ahead. Space is going to be a requirement in the next few minutes. 

Behind me I can hear people running through the brush. Three pairs of feet, one going high and moving fast. I have a feeling I know who that is and when I break out into the clearing and find her leaping in front of me, I'm not surprised. 

"Fancy meeting you here, Lucifer Quoll," the woman says, voice dry. "Ready to give up? You don't stand a chance against us this time." 

I glance behind me and see two men in identical grey tunics and black pants come running out. More _nen_ users, I'm fairly sure, because they don't have the look of a Mafia goons. If anything, their faces seem too empty of thought and expression. "Should I be complimented that you regard me as worth _three_ of you?" I ask. 

"You'd be nothing for me if it weren't for those Eyes," the woman tells me, sourly. "So they're here to block you. Both your Eyes and your escape." She gestures and I realize I've been chased to a cliff-side. "You're trapped, Quoll." 

I raise a brow. "The Eyes aren't _nen_," I point out. "Do you really think that's going to do any good?" Not that I'd use them, anyway, but she can't know that. 

The two gaze at me with an expression I usually only see in the mirror. "We do not use _nen,_" one says. There's something strange about his voice. Something not quite human. Something familiar. At the same time I feel an equally familiar hum in the base of my skull. A hum that is rapidly turning into a headache. 

"They're machines," the woman explains. "They're programmed to send a signal that interferes with brainwaves. Yours in particular, Number Q013." 

Standing utterly still, I gaze at the ground. _Well, well, well. My past catches up with me again._ I shrug, though, looking up at my attacker. "All right. No point in arguing about this, then. Come on. Take me if you can." I'm reasonably sure the machines won't interfere. They always were too limited in their thought processes for that. 

She rushes me, moving fast, so very fast that if I wasn't enhancing my own speed I'd be down in a flash. This time I have her measure and I know something of what she can do. No point in trying to get her with the _benz_. She knows about it and it's too obvious a weapon. Instead I keep dodging and evading, though I take several sharp blows in the process. I can't afford to let this go on as long as I did before. Then I had no choice. This time, though, all I need to do is find the perfect moment. 

It comes at last as she begins a series of cartwheels intended to end in a drop kick. It's a spectacular move. One which will certainly do some damage if I let it reach me. Instead I call up my book and flip it open to the best possible page, using the Skill I find there. She disappears, only to reappear several yards away and past the edge of the cliff. 

The last I see of her is a stunned expression before she drops. Her scream ends suddenly, a half second or so later. I take a deep breath, intending to use the same _nen_ on the machines when I'm enveloped in agony. I drop my book, falling to my knees and start screaming. 

KURAPIKA: 

The screams start just as I arrive at the car. I'm not sure whose they are, but something about them is so horrible that I can't help but rush towards them. It can't be Quoll. If he hit the point of needing to scream like that he'd be using his Eyes and I'd _know_ it. _Probably kill him for it, for good measure._ I may have to kill him anyway if he's gone berserk enough to torture someone that way. 

As I break my way into a clearing at the edge of a cliff I realize I was wrong. Not only are the screams Quoll's but I can understand why, though not how he's holding back the Eyes. He's crouched between two men, arms covering his head, rocking back and forth. There's something going on, a power I don't recognize, flowing between his attackers. Some sort of harmonic that must affect brainwaves. I'm getting a bit of it and it's enough to set my teeth on edge. 

One of the men speaks, "Specimen Number Q013 has been subjugated. Prepare to return to base." His voice is strange, mechanical. 

I lash out with my attack chain, expecting the blow to at least knock the man over. Instead he turns and something about the shape of his face, the smooth perfection of his skin and the blankness in his eyes tells me he's some sort of automaton. "Secondary target located," it says and the harmonic increases strength, focusing itself on me. I feel strange and when I try to summon my Eyes in response I find I can't. I still have my _nen_, though and I use it to wrap my attack chain around the thing. 

Behind him I see Quoll's hand move. He's still the center of the other machine's attention and the pain he's in can't be much less than mine, but taking the second one's attention off him lets him summon his Skill Book. It flips open and I see a picture of the girl we'd fought the night before. Then a plasma blast bursts from his left hand, striking his attacker in its lower right stomach. 

Somehow, that's enough. It collapses into a heap, as does Quoll. His target, however, tells me what I need to know about my own opponent. I center as much strength as I can into hitting the thing in the same spot. To my relief it too falls. 

QUOLL: 

I take long deep gasping breaths. _I could go for the rest of my _life_ and not get that treatment again,_ I think. It's everything I can do to force my Eyes to stay quiet, to keep the power controlled. Kurapika is too near, too much a danger and _in_ too much danger for me to chance releasing it. At last, though, my _ten_ does its job and restores equilibrium. 

By the time it has, Kurapika's finished off his opponent and knelt beside me. I ignore him in favor of laying face down in the grass. My head hurts like hell and what I really want is to crawl into a hole somewhere and not come back out. Kurapika is apparently opposed to that idea, though, and proceeds to use his healing chain on me. 

At last I begin to feel somewhat human again and I roll onto my back. He's looking at me strangely. "What did that thing mean, Q – zero – thirteen?" 

Taking a deep breath, I force myself to sit up. "That isn't your business," I tell him in a flat, no-nonsense, voice. One that I hope makes it very clear that I won't take any prying. 

Apparently, though, he's in a mood to ignore my tone. "More of your Spider's business?" 

I look at him, long and hard. "Not all my secrets are the Spider's," I tell him coldly. "But they are still my secrets. Leavebe." 

His grey eyes meet mine for a long, silent, moment. Then he nods. "For now, at least," he agrees. He stands up and holds out his hand and I take it, letting him help me up. "We'd better get moving. Am I right in thinking we'd better go easy on the _nen_?" 

"Very much so. They'll be hunting us down soon enough. No point in leaving a trail." Glancing around, I note that we're not all that far from the point where we'd have to leave the car anyway. I'd like to try and convince him not to go, to make him understand that this is not a good idea, but he's stubborn. Stubborn and convinced that – somehow – taking me there will force some truth out of me. Truth that cannot bear revealing. "We should get moving. It won't be long before we have to start in on foot." 

KURAPIKA: 

I look at him. He's doing it _again_. At my expression, though, he sighs. "I'm what I am, Kurapika. If you don't like it, don't drag me along." He pauses, glances at the automaton I destroyed. "I should thank you, by the way. Your timing was perfect." His expression holds little, but I think I see an embittered line in his lips, then he turns to me with a more charming smile. "So, thank you, Kurapika, for not letting that thing turn my brain into stir-fry." 

Something in his eyes causes me to pause. A mocking expectation that tells me he's not waiting for any response. My feelings about him haven't changed enough that I _want_ to be polite to him, but "You're welcome," I tell him in as even a tone as I can manage. Rather to my surprise, he blinks at me, expression momentarily stunned. "Let's go." 

He follows behind me back to the car and we start driving again. He's oddly silent now, not even bothering with the music. Instead he has a distant look on his face, faintly sour. The expression of someone thinking about things he doesn't want to think about. _That's okay. I'm thinking of things I don't want to think about either._

The problem is, I _should_ be thinking about it. I should be trying to work out ways to get past the walls he's building up, the careful lies and evasions he's built to hide the truth from me. _And from himself._ Glancing at him, I can see his expression getting cooler and more distant the closer we come to our destination. Everything he has said and done so far tells me that he fears this. Fears it as he does not fear death. I think if he feared it much more he would willingly embrace death rather than face it. 

Something horrible happened that day. Not just to my people, but to him as well. _To him and his Spider?_ I wonder. I understand part of it, but not why he thinks I would be even more willing to destroy him if I knew it all. It's obvious he went there seeking his past. Possibly even to learn what he was. Having felt the power of his Eyes, I think it would have been impossible for the Elders not to try and stop him. Possibly even try to kill him, only to bring his Eyes fully to bear on them and all the others. Not one of us could have held back against the power in him. 

Yet there is more, there must be. Why else would he be so secretive? What is it that makes him expect me to be even more of a danger should I find the full truth? 

QUOLL: 

I feel him staring at me, watching me with that intense, searching, look that makes me want to slap him. He's not a stupid man. He knows this is the last thing in the world I want to do. Does he think that I'll suddenly break? That somehow the stress of this trip will force the truth from my lips in an agony of confession? 

I find my lips tightening, as if doing so will somehow hold the knowledge in my head back. Damn him for this anyway. I'd take his efforts to kill me as a given, but this is something else and I don't like it and don't want it. Nor do I need it. 

_So why don't you just break the judgment and be done with it?_ I ask myself. Maybe because doing so is a stupid kind of suicide. I don't fear dying, am prepared to die for a good reason, but I just can't find it in me to consider avoiding the scene of the worst crime I've ever committed to be a good reason. 

"This is probably a good spot," Kurapika says, pointing off towards the trees. "We can leave the car here" 

"No," I tell him. "I'll shrink it. If we leave it, it'll be found." Again he gives me that look. The one that says he's resenting something I've said and I realize that – once more – I've acted like I'm leading this insane field trip. "Er I apologize. May I suggest we take it with us, once I've shrunk it?" 

Kurapika's expression turns startled, though I don't understand why until he says, "Why do you insist on being so polite?" 

I examine his face for a long, silent, moment. "Because in our situation, politeness may be the only thing that will keep us from killing each other. It isn't just _my_ Eyes that incite violence between us, you know." 

KURAPIKA: 

I stare at him, stunned. "No, I hadn't" It makes a strange sort of sense and provides yet another clue as to what happened that day when he killed my people. He turns and gets out of the car and I follow suit, saying, "I'll get the bag of stuff out of the trunk." I want to discuss things further, try and work my way around to more not so subtle hints, but everything about his posture tells me that such an attempt would be futile. 

Quoll nods, not saying anything, and I open the trunk to take out our one, small, bag. Contained within are the supplies Quoll had shrunk before and while I deplore the source of his skills, I can't argue with the result. This trip will be a lot easier because he did this. 

As he pulls out his Skill Book and prepares to shrink the car, I consider his comments. He's probably right that we need to be more polite to each other, difficult though I find it. Yet he surely realizes that his efforts to get _me_ to be polite to him haven't exactly helped keep my Ruby Eyes under control. There's more to it than that and I think I know what it is. 

He's been leading the Ryodan for years now. More, I think he is a proud man. The kind of man who must chafe at finding himself forced to follow in my lead like a puppy on a leash. No matter what else I feel towards him, he needs respect as well. Needs to feel less like a prisoner on the way to execution. Needs to feel some measure of control in a situation where he's lost _all_ control. 

Quoll's dark eyes meet mine and his brow shoots up. "Well? Ready?" He picks up the car and drops it in his pocket. 

I nod, starting up the trail into the mountains. 

To Be Continued 

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Oy. Between running an art show and a sinus infection, my mental state resembles Swiss cheese. Fortunately, this segment was written already, so I don't need to hold off posting it. The next segment needs work still, so it may be a few days before I write it. 

I've been of two minds on writing past the upcoming Chapter 7. I could finish things there and plan a sequel, or I could just keep going. At the moment, with all the little detail thingies to elaborate on, I'm inclined to just keep going and end the thing later. We'll see what I think when my brain is no longer full of cotton candy from the medicine. (SFX of Kosagi floating somewhere above her keyboard.) 

Shinamori: I hate when I lose " marks. Could you point them out to me? Private email at kosagi@woh.rr.com will be fine. Re: Quoll's 'perkiness'. The Quoll in my head is a rather odd mix of personalities. Without actively being a split personality, he, like most people, seems to be able to shift his attitude based on the situation. If he is perky to Kurapika it's probably partly because it annoys. He's capable of shifting attitudes based on the situation, obviously. A fact our more prosaic Kurota seems to find confusing. 

Cel: Thank you. 

Shinamori: Hmmm. I think you may be meaning how he reined in his emotion over Pakunoda's death vs. his reaction to Kurapika's presence, rather than Ubo's. Let me know if you meant something different. To answer your question, keep in mind that he uses _ten_ for control and that all his _ten_ was going towards dealing with the physical pain. There's a bit more to it than that, which I shall have to elaborate on as I go. I don't know whether this will go from a buddy/buddy fic like "48 Hours" or if those two will develop any relationships. (Kosagi admits to having fondness for yaoi, but the relationships need to happen on their own, rather than forcing the characters into it. Kosagi also has a raging allergy to yaoi that involves a guy who may as well be a girl in a man's body, or shouto, but that's beside the point.) I definitely will expand on the difference between the Ruby Eyes over the course of the fic (or in the sequel, if I go that way). Mundania It's a term often used in SF fandom, so I'm not sure if it's worked its way into the common vernacular. (I think I swallowed a dictionary when I was little eh heh.) 

Yukitsu: Well, this _is_ an Alternate Universe Fic, of course, but I like to think that Kurapika is capable of being something more than a vengeance hungry maniac. Re: Spelling It varies so much that I'm inclined to consider the Toriyama world version the most likely. I'd have to go look up the manga to find it and at the moment I'm too lazy. I'll probably fix the spelling when I'm finished to clean stuff up a bit. For now, I'll stick with Kurota. And looking at my screen caps of the anime, I could call his eyes turquoise, but not true green by the few shots I've seen. So, for now, I stick with blue. 

Blunt: Hey, thanks for the info. I am going to have to see about picking the anime up. All I have is the first OVA and some AVI's of the beginning of the fight between Quoll and the Zoldicks. Personal take on the matter is that the anime must have decided to put the spider tattoo in because it isn't in those scenes you describe in the manga. Or at least *I* can't see anything on his right arm that looks like a spider. Oh well. Is his left arm missing in the anime, btw? 

Yukiko: Yeah, most likely OOC. It's difficult to tell what they'd do with each other if Togashi-san were handling this. (SFX of Kosagi grumbling that there isn't more plot to the current story in Jump.) Still, as long as it's fun and isn't blowing anyone's mind, I'm satisfied. grin

Lynlyn: Answer to your email in a day or so. I have little brain left at the moment. 


	7. Confession

An Amusing Interlude: Part 7 - Confession - In which the truth cannot remain hidden forever.   
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

* * *

QUOLL: 

To say the days pass quickly would be a lie. Yet there's nothing like having a destination one would prefer not to reach to make time flow more quickly. After a week of traveling we reach an area that we both find familiar. Our reaction to it, however, is entirely different. 

Kurapika stands in the field and gazes around, tears streaming down his face. This is the entrance to the village and the last time I was here it was a battlefield. The last remnants of the Clan, making their final stand against the invaders and the abomination that led them. Now, however, only grass and flowers remain and I'm granted a sharp aching vision of one boy burying the remains. It's my imagination, of course, but never let it be said that my imagination isn't a good one. 

At last he turns and walks towards the entrance. Two tall stone pillars, their surface beginning to mottle with lichen and moss, guard the trail up to the village. He pauses, tracing the words in Kurota script carved into the nearest one. "May all who enter be welcomed. Here is peace and tranquility. Here is Heart's home," he whispers. 

I realize I'm gritting my teeth. "You don't have to read it to me," I tell him. "I don't need you to tell me what it says." I don't need him to because I already know. I glance at the other pillar, resentment growing. _May the wanderer find rest, the seeker find._ "Heart's desire. Right." I find myself muttering. As Kurapika turns a startled look my way I give him a sour look and walk past him. "Well? Are we going to stand here all day?" 

Kurapika's eyes on me are thoughtful and I'm surprised he doesn't say anything. Instead he continues up the trail. 

KURAPIKA: 

_I've just received another clue, haven't I?_ I carefully avoid looking at the dark clad figure behind me, sensing that it would take little to push him over the edge at this point. I have to be careful. Bringing him here might be a mistake – it depends on how well he can control himself until I find a way to do it for him. Yet he can take the most incredible amounts of damage without losing that control. Otherwise he would have lost it when I captured him that first time. When my Eyes had surely tested his _ten_ to its limits. 

Stepping onto the village grounds, for a bare instant I expect someone, Jurik, perhaps, to run to greet me. It's a thought that's gone in an instant. This place is too silent. The wind that blows from the mountains carries only birdsong and small noises. No one yelling from one house to another. No hammer in the smithy. It was this way the last time, but the reason was more obvious in the battered and abused bodies of my people. 

I have to force my eyes not to turn red. Not to incite Quoll's own Eyes. I don't look at him as I say, tiredly, "I don't suppose you could bother to tell me why you took their eyes?" When he doesn't answer, I look his way. 

He's silent, gazing at the village without expression. Without feeling. I would think he was looking at a mildly interesting painting but for the solidity of his pose. To say he is unaffected would be, I think, a lie. 

"I have nothing to say," Quoll answers after a moment. 

QUOLL: 

Rather to my surprise, Kurapika doesn't remark on my refusal to answer, just walks towards the main building at the center of the village. "Come," he tells me and I follow, silently. 

It's odd. Something about this place makes him feel stronger. More in touch with his Self and who he is. His sorrow is immense, but at the same time, he's glad to be home and that gladness lightens his step. 

I feel like a shadow trailing behind him, a shadow rapidly losing substance as he grows lighter. This place is not for me. Their fine words at the gate were meaningless for me. No rest. No welcome for the fallen. _Even for one who hadn't known that he _had_ fallen._

The inside of the town hall is brightly lit by the sunlight streaming through the windows. The walls are plastered with a pale, ever so faintly yellowish, substance. Translucent and a little reflective. The floors are wood, made of ash or beech, as are the rafters. There's something light and airy about the large room. The kind of place one expects to see kindly old sages conversing about philosophy. 

Those 'kindly' old sages hadn't been all that philosophical about me, I recall with a sneer. The thought nearly sends my memories back into that time and I have to increase my use of _ten_ to force it back. I'm so distracted by my efforts not to think at all that I don't notice what Kurapika is doing until it's too late. 

A sharp sting in my arm brings my attention sideways. For a moment I think he's stabbing me, but the arm is a ridiculous target and I realize it's a thorn of some sort. "I don't know how long this is going to last on you," he says. "They've been in storage for a while." 

I stare at him and – stupidly – feel betrayed. "What was it?" 

"A drug my people use used when one of us was too sick to think clearly." He puts an arm under my elbow and as my knees start to give way and I feel myself falling, I understand why. As he drags me to a stack of pillows and leans me against them, he continues, "Otherwise the Ruby Eyes would be a danger to both patient and healer." 

My head is spinning and my muscle control is nearly gone. It's not quite the same as the poison from my _benz_ knife, but its effects feel similar. "It seems to block more than the Eyes," I whisper. My muscles are failing me. I can't think clearly, can't do anything at all. "Too bad side-effects are so incapacitating. Something like that useful." 

Kurapika nods. "To be honest," he says quietly, "I'm not sure how well it blocks your Eyes, either. They're so different from mine." He looks down at me directly. "Would you try and summon them?" 

I almost refuse, then, shrugging inwardly, call them forth. If the drug does its job, nothing will happen. If it doesn't this is Kurapika's gamble. If nothing else, he might be able to run fast enough to escape them. 

KURAPIKA: 

Quoll leans back among the pillows and stares straight ahead. Something _is_ happening around him, a shadowy chaotic swirl of power that seems oddly muted. The drug can't contain his Eyes then, but it _does_ have an effect. There's no emotion behind the swirl, no anger, no pain, no fear. Still, I wonder if I've made the wrong choice yet again. At least, if I have, it's only the two of us who will pay. 

_You knew the risk, Kurapika,_ I remind myself. His nature is not true Kurota. What would completely block my power might have no, to little, effect on him. I'd had hope when it had at least affected his body so strongly. 

The power swirling around him doesn't have the same feel to it without his emotions to give it strength, though. I don't have any urge to attack him, no urge to tear him apart. No urge to destroy an evil parody of my Eyes. I kneel, reaching out to him, and he raises his head to look at me. He whimpers, trying to pull away and momentarily I feel his fear. Then the drug wipes that little bit away. 

I realize at that moment that he's trying to avoid my gaze, that, without intending to, I've summoned my own Eyes. For the barest moment I'm looking directly into his Self and what I see there confirms everything I'd feared. 

_Memory shifts, twists in the brain. Thoughts intertwine to form tangled knots in the lines. We want to escape. We want to understand._

"Quite frankly, I've come here for help." Quoll looked from village elder to village elder and saw their puzzled frowns. Explaining the truth shouldn't be all that hard, yet he found himself hesitating, none the less. What would they make of him? Of his background and of his nature? He took comfort in the fact that his Spider waited outside for them. Even if these people rejected him, his friends, his family, would not. Family was so important to him. The forming of the Ryodan had been a need fulfilled. Yet these were his people too and he wanted, no, needed to understand. 

At last he lifted his head. "I have the Ruby Eyes and I need to learn to control them." 

Five men and women stared at each other, then at him. "Impossible," one said firmly. "Utterly impossible. Only those in our village have the Eyes." 

Quoll shrugged eloquently. "And no one ever leaves?" 

"Occasionally. They come back." 

Raising a brow, Quoll asked, "Always?" 

_Back away. Unwanted. Not safe. The precipice is before us and we will fall. We must know. Only in knowing can we find a path out of this morass that we have worked ourselves into._

"Not always," admitted one Elder. "But it is still impossible. You are not one of them, not the child of one who found another of our kind out in the world. You are not of our blood, for all you bear some resemblance." His expression was growing worried, as if a thought was occurring to him that he did not like to think of. 

Admitting the full truth was beyond Quoll, but somehow he had to make these people understand and help him. Help him before he lost control entirely. "I'm not full blood, but my father was Kurota." 

He realized his mistake the minute he said those words. The shock of his explanation turned the eyes of every Elder in the room bright red, their fear and loathing nearly inciting his own Eyes into full attack. For a moment the power escaped him, but, somehow he managed to control the effect, to fight it down, but not easily. 

_No further Please no further Don't do this to us We need to know. Need to see. Must face what cannot be faced. _

It didn't matter, though. The Elders were on their feet, anger and fury rising. "HALF BLOOD! THAT ONE! ABOMINATION!" Their anger grew, rage so great that his fragile control was lost. He might have been able to face one Kurota in such a rage, but not five. Not all aiming their loathing and fear at him. "Stop him. Those eyes Destroy all they hate. All they fear. All they love. KILL HIM!" 

His Eyes released, the power flow around him caught at their minds, rebounded and echoed. The effect was agonizing, the more so because there seemed to be a magnifying effect that caused other minds to be caught in the flow. One of the guards came running in, spear at ready, about to run him through, eyes burning with the same fury. 

Quoll couldn't move. Trapped at the center of the maelstrom, he was barely able to hold his own against the fury being leveled at him. Only Ubo's great hands, breaking the man's neck, stopped the Kurota before he closed. Quoll's Spider encircled him, trying to break him out of his trance, but to no avail. 

As the maelstrom grew it gathered more in. He could hear his people fighting. One, Phinx, yelling at Shizuka and Mardi to get him out, to get him to safety. He felt the girls' hands on his arms, their support as they dragged him through a village of howling maniacs, barely aware of anything but the agonizing pain in his mind. Supported, though, by his real family, he found the strength to keep moving. The Eyes knew his true allies and would not willingly harm them. Instead they reached out, linking with the others and leaning on their strength. 

They reached the entrance to the village somehow, though he was barely aware of anything but a blur of red eyes and clawing fingers. They wanted him dead. All other thought was lost in their rage and his own. 

_Not this no Please Too far We've gone too far Sorry Sorry to do this Sorry _

Mardi's scream of pain woke him a bit. She was falling, one of his family was falling and he could do nothing but feel her death. The link of the Eyes to those he regarded as closer than blood shattered between them as she fell into darkness. The others were fighting and killing their way through the village, while the Elders, at the head of the pack, struggled to reach him, their hate and fury a physical force. 

He fell to his knees, screaming with anguish and loss. Screaming with rage. If his Eyes had seemed to reach their full power before, he now realized that that had been a mere seeming. Locking onto the mind of the one nearest him, feeling her anguish at the loss of their friend and feeding off of it, he projected that fury outwards. 

Now the magnifying effect played right into his hands. As he drained each attacker's mind their power joined into his and made the force of his attack that much stronger for the next one. His mind drove into those other minds, twisted them into knots and drank of their knowledge. One after another fell, minds drained, life force ebbing as their brains failed, no longer capable of so much as keeping the breath in their bodies. Within minutes all were dead and his mind – overloaded by knowledge not his own – fell into another kind of darkness. 

KURAPIKA: 

Pulling out of the confusion is about the hardest thing I've ever done. If Quoll wasn't under the influence of the drug I would never make it. Looking around, I find myself sitting beside him, his arms wrapped around me, fingers buried in my tunic as if clutching a lifeline. His expression is twisted and agonized and I wonder if I've pushed him entirely too far. _I should not have done this,_ I realize. Nothing could have stopped me, though. Nothing short of the truth I've just learned. A truth I could only have learned through this means. A truth I would give anything not to know. 

A tiny little whimper escapes Quoll's lips, but he's starting to relax. His clutch loosens, allows me to pull free and stand. Looking down at him, I wonder what to do. 

I can't kill him. I couldn't kill him before when he was my helpless prisoner. The first time I'd had an excuse to hide behind – my friends' safety. The second time, well he was injured and utterly helpless, containing secrets that I thought I had to know. I wish now I didn't. Wish I could have retained some innocence. His people destroyed mine, yes, but I can't help but wonder what might have happened if they'd not reacted as they had. Can't help but wonder if the Genei Ryodan would have become our allies instead of our destroyers. 

_But that would never have happened._ I had felt the effect of our eyes on him and his on mine. They magnify each other's responses. I would like to believe the Elders were unmatched in strength and control, but I am forced to recognize that they too were human and fallible. From the moment Quoll revealed he had the Ruby Eyes they should have used caution. Should have taken action to minimize the danger. Should have gotten him as far away from the village as possible. 

I have to wonder, though, what would have happened to him if they had. Would they have killed him? Found a way to help him, despite their obvious belief that it wasn't possible? If the former, they would have died in turn, killed by his followers. If the latter – was it even possible to help him? 

Looking at him, sprawled unconscious on the pillows, I know what I have to do. 

QUOLL: 

I open my eyes on darkness, feeling the force of the memories in my head, feeling my desperate need to release my Power again and defend myself. My eyes are glowing still. Only the fact that there's nothing and no one there to direct their power at keeps me from losing control. Instead, somehow, I force my _ten_ back in control and sit up, pushing back the blanket that covers me. 

My stomach is roiling and I seriously consider being sick. At last, though, I get the nausea under control as well and manage to stand up. I've been here for hours, I realize. Not much longer than that, but then I really didn't fully release the eyes during that nasty little trip down memory lane. _Damn him. I didn't need that._

It occurs to me, however, that _he_ did. I couldn't have told him what he learned. Still can't think about it too hard without finding the knowledge I've stolen trying to shred my brain into tiny little pieces. They aren't separate thoughts, aren't the minds of my victims, aren't even some small bits of the souls of the dead. They're just bits of information, bits of knowledge. Tastes and senses and loves and hates and deaths. That last's the hardest part, for I know exactly what I did to them. What it was like for them to die. I can only bear it by burying it deep. I do not fear death because, in a way, I have died a hundred deaths already. 

There's other knowledge, too. Knowledge of what had happened, though it had taken me months to assimilate it. Months of patient reading through the clan's scrolls. Months of careful stepping through the minefield of stolen memories to find some way to control my nature. 

_And finding none. I am and I am not Kurota. Something is missing in my mind, in my brain, that would allow me to control what I am. To hold the effect of the Eyes to a minimum. They knew that was the case and they feared it._ I walk to the doorway, wondering where Kurapika is and find a note pinned to it with a small dagger. 

Quoll, 

By the time you read this I'll have left the village. Just so you know, I've removed the Judgment Chain from your heart entirely, so don't worry about having to follow me. In fact, I think it would be better if you didn't. 

In the last week I've come to understand quite a bit about what happened and everything I've just experienced has confirmed both it and one other thing. Because of what I understand now, I find that I cannot continue pursuing you, or your Spider. There is blame on both sides of the equation, but I think, perhaps, more lies on the Elders' side than yours. I think, had you any idea of what would result in your coming here, you would have turned in your tracks and left my people be. 

A part of me wonders if I'm doing the right thing, leaving you alive. Having guessed what I have about you, I fear you. I fear what you can do. I fear it, and yet I cannot find a just reason to kill you for it. It is not your fault that you are what you are. Not your fault that you've an ability that you should not have and that you can only control in one way. It is, I think, to your credit that you have held the power so long and used it so seldom. I can only hope you continue to do so. 

I would like to ask more questions. I would like to know who the idiots were who thought they could breed their own Ruby Eyes. That's what you are, aren't you? The result of a breeding program gone horribly awry. Were you thrown away? Or did you escape, I wonder? Not that it matters. Asking you more questions only risks causing you pain. Only risks summoning your Eyes. I don't dare do that, for both our sakes. Now I understand why you and your Spider would not speak. They feared to send you back over the edge into true insanity. Feared what I would do to you if I knew what you were. Just as you could _not_ explain without reawakening the memories you've stolen. 

That's why I'm leaving you alone, though I plan to wait until you're showing signs of waking up before doing so. That means, of course, that I won't be all that far. Still, I ask that you not look for me. We should not be near each other. Should not risk the result of our Eyes clashing ever again. For both our sakes. 

I cannot do anything more but say this; You have done something horrible, but you have paid a price far beyond anything I could reasonably demand of you. More, I cannot find it in me to blame you anymore for what you did. For what you have done to me and my people I can only forgive you. And hope, one day, you can forgive yourself. 

Kurapika. 

To Be Continued 

* * *

Author's Notes: 

XD: Thanks for that screencap! I found the same scene in the scanlation from Toriyama's world and it *isn't* in the manga. Heh. Someone decided to put one there later, I guess. (Quoll: Hisoka, what are you doing with that marker? Hisoka: You want them to believe it's you, right? Gotta have a spider _somewhere_. Quoll: I understood that much. It was the mustache and goatee I was objecting to.) 

Aelys: Thanks! 

Yukitsu: I think turquoise can be read as green or blue, and it may be a matter of the way eyes see, too. Oh, and I think maybe Kurapika's eyes are brown when he's wearing those contacts. 

Shinomori: I admit to a fondness for more complex characters and when you have a character like Quoll who is so very under written, it's sometimes *easier* to make up the complexities. We'll have to see what Togashi does. I have theories about what the Genei Ryodan wants on Greed Island and I don't think it's just a matter of fixing Quoll's problem. As for Yaoi, while I admit to reading and enjoying some PWP style yaoi, I do prefer some reason behind a relationship occurring, rather than just forcing two characters together because the writer thinks they're hot. I hope this episode helps explain a bit of what's driving Quoll's earlier reaction to Kurapika. Oh, and thanks for the edits... I'll probably hold off on the fixes until I've got this thing done, but it's good to know where they are.

Yukiko: I had to get someone to translate that grin but THANKS! 

Blunt: Fanart Ooooh. Except the link's broken. Can you email me privately, or repost in the reviews? Ouchies! 


	8. Continuance

An Amusing Interlude: Part 8 – Continuance – In which we learn that it's not over yet.   
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

* * *

KURAPIKA: 

I gaze out onto the forest below me, mind only half on my surroundings, leaning back against the tree trunk. This was my place as a child, a high spot nesting amid the branches of this ancient tree. A hidden spot I'd come to when I was unhappy, or bored or just feeling like being alone. Somewhere behind me, in the village, Quoll is waking up and finding my letter for him. I'll have to give him a head start, at least a week, before I can head down the mountain as well. 

Am I making a mistake? Should I have killed him when I had a chance? Everything I had been taught says no. One does not wage war on the helpless, and he was utterly helpless when I left him. I could have slit his throat with his own knife and he would have been powerless to stop me. 

It would be, I think, what the elders would have preferred, at least in those moments of madness when their eyes and his interacted to fatal effect. Yet I don't think even they would have demanded it had they been in control, had they understood what they were facing. I have to believe that, or I think I might go mad. I can accept what happened if I see it as a horrible accident, the inevitable result of two opposing forces coming into contact. Otherwise the elders, the trusted, wise and compassionate elders were no more than foolish mortal men. 

I watch the sunset fade into darkness. Tomorrow afternoon it should be safe enough to go back to the village at least. To wait there until he's absolutely clear. In the meantime I'll be fine up here. 

My thoughts are broken off by the sound of movement amid the trees. Too loud to be an animal's, too many to be Quoll searching for me, I realize that others are making their way through the darkness. I cling to my branch, looking down, and see several figures that look very familiar. Those robots again. They've found Quoll! 

When one looks up and its glowing yellow eyes see me, I know it's me they want. 

QUOLL: 

There's a humming in the air, a sound that isn't a sound at all. A head-splitting noise that I know only too well. Standing in the darkness outside the meeting hall, I realize that I can't wait until morning to find Kurapika. Those things are looking for me, no doubt, but they'll take him as well. He would be useful to their master's experiment, after all. 

I make my way through the underbrush, cursing silently as I do so. I appreciate Kurapika's reasons for getting far away from me, understand his fears, but his doing so has only made things more inconvenient. I am really beginning to hate the woods. Without _gyou_ – the inner sight that all nen users have – to help me find my way I'd be lost in this murky darkness. _And end up going over a cliff, no doubt. _

Fortunately, he isn't all that far away. The machines have surrounded him, though, and he must be in agony from the signal they're putting out. He's clutching the branches and barely holding back the screams. If the signal had been adjusted to his brainwave pattern he wouldn't have been able to do even that much. _Good thing they've never had a chance to _get_ those brainwave patterns._

I can't go to his rescue. All those machines need to do is turn their signal onto me and I'll be helpless again. On the other hand, I don't have to go to him to get him out of there. I call on my _nen_ and flip my Skill-book open to the page containing the image of the girl with the teleport _nen_. 

Kurapika's startled gasp echoes behind me, but I ignore it in favor of pulling something from my pocket and flipping the page to another rapidly. As I toss the object into the center of the group I undo the shrinkage, then spin, dropping onto Kurapika and forcing him down. 

The explosion from the reconstituted bomb shatters the quiet night air. 

KURAPIKA: 

Quoll makes a sharp sound of pain as he lies on top of me. As the explosion dies away he rolls off and puts a hand to his back. "Etayyyyyy," he gasps. "That thing was stronger than I expected." His words come to me through a fuzz of static, my overloaded ears exceedingly unhappy with the sound. 

I sit up, glance over in the direction of the explosion. My tree is destroyed, but so are the things that were attacking me. I want to yell at him for the former, but, after all, he _did_ rescue me and I can't really think of any way he could have done so other than what he did. Not when he couldn't get close to those monstrosities without being incapacitated. 

"Let me see," I order, kneeling beside him to examine his injury. There's a piece of shrapnel stuck in his back, a stick of wood thrown out from the force of the explosion. "Can you walk? I think I'd better take care of this back at the village." 

He nods, expression composed and utterly calm. He has to be using an incredible amount of _ten_ to achieve that state of mind. If it had been me, my eyes would be burning red right now. I pull him up, guiding him through the trees until we've returned to the village and the town hall. Once again he's forced to sprawl on the pillows, though this time I'm not going to use the thorns on him unless he needs me to. Nor do I dare use my healing chain. Not when the Nostrads are certainly tracing me through my _nen_. 

Getting the wood out of his back means cutting his coat off him, eliciting some mumbled complaints as I do so. "Would you prefer to stay the way you are?" I ask him as I cut. He goes quiet then, though I can tell he's still irritated. It's a distraction for him, though, and I think I understand why he needs it. At last I finish bandaging the wound and sit back. 

He looks at me silently, those ever so black eyes meeting mine without expression. There's something unnerving about the way he watches me, a depth of concentration that I begin to realize he gives everything. Even when he isn't being the Danchou, even when he's at his most light-hearted, a part of him is completely aware of everything going on around him. Aware and analyzing it all. 

I break the silence at last. "Thank you," I say, "I would have preferred a different method, but" 

QUOLL: 

I stare at Kurapika, dumbfounded. "Are you feeling all right," I start to ask, then notice the humor in his eyes and have to smile slightly myself. "You're welcome," I add. "Now, are you feeling all right?" 

His smile is wry. "I'm still more inclined to ask you what the hell you thought you were doing, but you _did_ save me." He shrugs. "Nor can I think of a safer way for you to have done so. So I'm not going to complain. Even if that _was_ my favorite tree." 

After a long moment I blink at him. "Damn. I didn't mean to" He stares at me and I realize how out of character my response must seem to him. It's the truth, though, I know what it means to have a secret place. Everyone needs a place where they can hide sometimes and I've just destroyed his. Explanations, however, would only end up making no sense to him, so I shrug. "No point in making you madder at me than you already are." 

Kurapika sighs. "It couldn't be helped. How did those things find us, anyway?" 

Leaning back among the pillows, I consider the matter. I have not been thinking clearly in the last week, being too busy anticipating whatever plans Kurapika had for me to worry about other matters. Now, however, I go over the facts and think I understand. 

The Nostrads probably found Kurapika through his use of his nen, otherwise he would have been followed a lot more closely. They have a _nen_ douser, one who has seen or has been told how Kurapika's _nen_ works. The machines that were hunting me must be using something similar. Something other than _nen_ however, or they would have found me a lot sooner. It has been many years since I've had to deal with them, after all and the last time "They traced my Eyes," I answer at last. 

KURAPIKA: 

Quoll's explanation makes sense and I nod grimly. "There'll be more, won't there?" 

"Unfortunately, quite probably. The only way to be rid of them would be to shut down the operation that sent them." His voice has a peculiar, controlled, quality to it that makes me suspect that this is not a conversation Quoll savors. If anything, it may be testing his self-control to the limit. 

I have to ask, though, "Why haven't you? You obviously know they still want you" He shakes his head. "You didn't?" 

"I was thrown away. I'd assumed for years it was because I was a failure." His jaw tenses for a moment and he stops. "Kurapika I can't. Not right now." It is the closest thing to an admission of vulnerability that I've ever heard from him. "Tomorrow when I've rested." 

Realizing that he can't take much more in his condition, I nod. I can't afford to make him lose control. "Go to sleep, then. We both need to rest." 

As he curls up in the pillows I rise to my feet and head for one of the other huts. Things are _not_ going the way I'd intended them to. It would have been so much easier to just let him go, to have him disappear back into the shadows and rejoin his Spider. I have a feeling things aren't going to be nearly that easy, however. 

_Thrown away,_ I think to myself and can feel nothing but pity for him, though I'm certain he would neither welcome or accept it. I was raised in a loving environment, safe, protected and nurtured. Somehow I'm fairly sure he's had none of those advantages. What must it have been like? My imagination boggles at the thought. 

Sprawling on my cot, I stare at the ceiling of my room, thinking of things I would rather not think of and wondering what I'm going to do about it. My feelings are at odds with each other, pity for what has been done to him fights with anger at what he has done. Even knowing why, I cannot completely rid myself of my fury. Somehow, I close my eyes and manage to fall asleep. 

*** 

_Vision wavers. He stands over me, eyes blazing a brilliant ruby that sears me through to the heart. I cannot move. I do not _want_ to move, though I know what it is he will do. He kneels over me, his chains jingling in the hollow darkness. Without a word he sets to work, the blade of his judgment piercing my eye, tearing it out. _

_I would howl with pain, but I cannot make a sound, entrapped in his chains and forced to compliance by knowledge of my own guilt. Only when darkness falls on me eternally, when he has taken both my eyes for his own do I weep. _

*** 

QUOLL: 

I wake to the smell of something burning and the sound of someone cursing in Kurota. Standing shakily, I move slowly outside and lean against the rails surrounding the outer porch and watch Kurapika trying to cook. "Such language," I can't help saying. "Who taught you to talk like that, young man?" I focus on what he's doing, in preference for thinking about my nightmare. It is not the first such I have had. It will not be the last. 

Kurapika turns and blinks at me with a startled air, but I ignore it, coming down the steps and taking the frying pan full of charred eggs away from him. "Here. Let me." I'm not the world's greatest cook, but a month or so working in a greasy spoon has at least taught me how _not_ to burn eggs. 

As I clean up his mess and start up a fresh batch, he watches me. Very cautiously, he asks, "How do you know what I'm saying?" 

"How do you think?" I ask. It's a silly question, considering what my Eyes did to his people before they killed them. I force my thoughts away from that line, though, only adding, "Don't ask further, please." 

His eyes on me make me feel mildly uncomfortable and I turn back to my cooking, half-wishing I had taken Pakunoda up on her offer to use her _nen_ to remove those memories from me. Except we couldn't be sure what would have happened if she had died later. Sometimes _nen_ effects only last while the user is alive and I can't think of anything worse than having those memories suddenly breaking in on me unexpectedly. At least this way I know where the pitfalls lie and can avoid them. 

"Actually, someone taught me some of your language when I was a child I think." I put some eggs on his plate and on mine, then put the pan away. "I don't have many memories of that time, to be honest." 

As Kurapika eats I can see him thinking hard. At last he says, "You couldn't talk about it last night. Can you now?" 

I pick my thoughts and words very carefully. "You asked why I have done nothing about them." I say quietly. "What makes you think I haven't been?" 

"The Ryodan?" he asks. "Is that why you formed it?" 

"Not really," I shake my head. It's easier to talk about them than my own past, and I am revealing no secrets in telling him these things. "Remember what I said about how the people of Star City see us?" 

"Robin Hood and his Merry Men?" Kurapika asks finally, at my nod, he frowns. "Then who is Prince John?" 

"The rest of the world, frankly." I shrug, "Specifically the Mafia, or similar organizations. People without record, without a background, can disappear so easily if need be." I allow myself a sour smile. "A rather large number disappeared recently, in fact." 

He yawns and apologizes quickly. "I'm not trying to be callous," he says. "I just had a bad dream last night. I didn't sleep well." Is it my imagination or is he giving me a guilt-ridden look. At my nod, he continues, "The auction at York Shin was Mafia run, of course. That's why you targeted it And why you were so bloody?" 

I shrug slightly. "There were several reasons, actually. One, Ubo." He flinches a bit at that, realizing that our violence that night had been partly driven by the death of the man he'd killed. "Two, we have a reputation to uphold. And, thirdly, there was no one in that hotel who wasn't involved somehow in the organization. Not one person who wouldn't have killed us before allowing us to steal one object from them. No quarter was offered on either side and none would have been taken." 

KURAPIKA: 

I shudder uncontrollably. "Quoll" How can he be so calm about things like this? He's talking about people's lives. I feel sympathy for him, but I can't feel sympathy for the cold-blooded way he kills. It's all the harder to hear after that dream last night. Bending over him, ripping his eyes out, my cold rage too great to even care how much pain I was causing him. Bloody tears streaming down his face from empty sockets. My dream self had felt great satisfaction but all I can feel now is sick. 

Quoll looks at me quietly, waiting a moment, then says softly. "We've had to be hard in order to survive. For what it's worth, I am sorry it causes you pain. We could argue the morals the ethics of what the Ryodan do for hours and never come up with a definitive answer." 

He finishes his food and stands up, staring off into the distance silently. "In any case, all of this does not answer your other question, as to what I have been doing about my pursuit." Quoll is choosing his words carefully and I realize that speaking risks shattering a delicate balance, and remain silent. "As I said last night, I was thrown away. When I first learned of the project I thought it was because I was a failure. I believe now that it was to test me. To test what my Eyes" he pauses again. "To test what my talent can do. I believe I am intended to be a weapon." 

I blink at him, repeating his statement softly. I don't want to, but I understand what he is saying only too well. My people's power is almost purely a defense mechanism. Such an ability, turned to offense would be invaluable to some. "But you have no control" 

"Depending on the nature of what they would use me for, control may not be needed," Quoll points out. "Just drop me in among the targets and set me off." Suddenly he's shuddering and I can't help but stand and reach out to touch his shoulder. He struggles with whatever is going on inside him and I can feel the pressure tearing him apart inside. Somehow he is controlling it, though, and I know I never could. Of course, I've never _had_ to control something like his Eyes. 

He glances at me and I see the faintest wavering of heat within. To my deep surprise, I don't feel that same urge to throttle him I had before when he uses the Eyes. Am I becoming innured to it? I can certainly feel the power, faint surges that are fading even as I watch. _Maybe it's just too faint to incite me?_ I wonder. 

"It would not be a pleasant life for me," he says finally. "But I am only guessing at their intentions, mind you. For all I know, my initial assumption was correct and they simply want to destroy something that has turned out to be a danger to them, now that I know what they were up to." 

"What what can you tell me, then?" I want to know. I need to understand more. We are walking a dangerous path, I know that now, but if he can answer my questions without losing control of himself then maybe, just maybe, I'll know what to do next. _I know what I _want_ to do. I just don't know how._

Sitting down, Quoll looks up at me with that quirky smile. "I don't have answers I can give you," he tells me. "Not with me. If you really mean to go further into this, then I have a proposal for you." 

I stare at my former enemy, confused. "A proposal?" I repeat, feeling foolish. 

"Yes." His huge dark eyes meet mine calmly. "You brought me here for answers, and you have some, but not all the story. The rest is in Star City." 

Sudden understanding hits me. "You mean" 

"Yes. I want you to go home with me, now." 

To Be Continued 

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Yeesh. I really meant to have this out sooner, but the sinus infection has turned my head into an empty bone with a tiny brain rattling around inside. That and a Skies of Arcadia fic that decided to force me to write it last week or so. However, I think I know how to make this story work as a single longer story, though it will take me a bit to get through. So – hopefully – one update a week will be possible. 

Daiji: In the process of doing this fic I've searched out a whole bunch of Quoll pics on the web and had myself loads of fun being inspired by them. Dang it all that they're all over in the non-English areas, though, because it makes hunting them down difficult. Quoll is definitely a glompable person in this story, but then I want him to be. As you see, I could draw the curtain over the situation here, but am choosing to continue rather than sequel this. Oh, and yes, there's apparently a Greed Island OVA out there. It's even being fansubbed, but I haven't had a chance to get it yet. As for where to find the translations, Toriyama's world is the place to go. I think there's another site out there, but I like their xlation pretty well. is the URL. Oh, and roiling is a descriptive term meaning something like turbulent, so yes, that's the word I mean. 

Aelys: Thanks! 

Yukitsu: Like I told Daiji I'm not forcing the two into a relationship. If something happens in the course of the fic, it happens. Right now they're like squabbling brothers more than anything else. 

Blunt: Art is always good. I *like* art. I like it very much. (Am hoping to manage some story related pieces myself, but at the moment nothing.) Thanks muchly for doing it at all! 


	9. Conversation

An Amusing Interlude: Part 9 – Conversation: In which there is probably far too much of same.   
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

* * *

KURAPIKA: 

Quoll's doing it again. I sit in the passenger seat and listen to his cheerful warbling with a mix of mild irritation and confusion. "We built this city" he sings, driving down the road with one elbow on the window, finger tapping lightly in time to the music, "We built this city from rock & roll" It's not that he's a bad singer, just that his repertoire seems so limited. 

When the music shifts to an advertisement for some new allergy medicine, I frown at him. "Why?" I have to ask, "Why do you like that stuff? It's moronic brainless" 

"Brain candy," he agrees equably. "Utter nonsense. That's _why_ I like it." 

I have to admit that I don't understand. "That doesn't make sense. You're supposed to be." 

"A mix of Machiavelli, Sun Tzu and a host of other manipulative and brilliant tacticians?" he suggests and, at my nod, continues, "True enough. But, Kurapika, I think all the time. Sometimes I can't _stop_ from thinking. As Danchou, it's my _job_ to think and plan. So why in the world would I want to listen to music that just requires _more_ of the same?" 

"Oh." I consider that a long moment. "I think I understand." 

A strange look crosses Quoll's face and he adds, "That and it torques you off." 

I don't know what comes over me. I certainly wouldn't have reacted if he'd said that on the trip into the mountains, but then I would have killed him with the terms of my Judgment on him. With that gone, however, smacking him upside the back of the head is not only possible, but seems an absolute necessity. 

Quoll ducks the blow, somehow keeping control of the wheel despite the motion and as he starts laughing I find myself staring at my hand in utter shock. I don't _do_ things like this. I'm the serious one, the one without a sense of humor at all. Slowly, I say, "You did that on purpose." 

"Guilty," Quoll admits, still chuckling. "I was wondering if that oh-so-solemn pose of yours was going to last forever." 

I swallow back a hard knot in my chest. On one hand I feel a sharp anger that _he_, of all people, would mock my pain, but on the other – _I'm not the only one scarred by all of this. Does he act the fool to hide the truth, or is it something else? I know he hurts._ It's a frightening thought, this sympathy for the devil. At last I admit, "I don't understand." 

His expression goes quiet. "No one is a single piece, Kurapika. We all have different sides to ourselves. You take things more seriously than I do" He pauses and reconsiders that, "no, not more seriously more _solemnly_. I just find it easier to deal with the hard parts if I don't let it get to me. I had to learn that early." 

I look away. I still don't understand, but it's not something I think I _have_ to comprehend. Not when we're just traveling together towards a common goal. It's not like we're partners for any great length of time. The thought reminds me, "Just how are we going to get to Star City, anyway?" 

"First we need to lay a false trail," Quoll tells me. "We" He pauses as a sound, a peculiar beeping noise, interrupts. I reach out for the glove compartment, from which the sound seems to be emanating, and find myself looking at a cell-phone. 

"For me," Quoll says, pulling over and stopping the car. "Someone finally decided to check in." 

QUOLL: 

Kurapika gives me a startled look as I take the cell-phone from him. "Someone the Ryodan? You left them a message somewhere?" 

"Mmmm," I agree, hitting the answer button. "Here," I say into the phone, letting my tone slip over into the one I use when I'm being boss. "Report?" 

"Er DANCHO!?! Atana de?" It's Phinx, speaking in our home dialect. 

"Hei," I answer in the same language. "Erzen bestag?" Kurapika is watching me somewhat suspiciously and I put my hand over the speaker. "I'll switch to English in a moment," I tell him. 

"You probably have code words all over the place anyway," my not quite willing companion says sourly. 

I would grin at Kurapika, but I have to pay attention to Phinx's recitation. "Kitsnay keky adessus tempris hondu." 

"Nau tempus akuma asist polisu-ga," I answer. "I'm going to English now, Phinx. Make the report quick. I have places to go and people to be." 

"We're proceeding with the plan, sir. Er Obviously you're able to contact us. Will you be" Phinx continues in Hoshnin. 

"Not yet," I decide. "An important personal matter, related to my recent problem, requires my presence." I pause, "Oh, and no responses to what happened at the city. We have come to an understanding." 

"You and the" Phinx coughs, realizing he'd better not say anything more on what is, essentially, an open line, "Very well. I'll make sure everyone knows. Er... Nobunaga isn't going to like this." 

"Tell him to deal with it. Anything else?" 

"Suspicions regarding our friends' location have been confirmed. We're investigating further. Also, now that #4 is open" 

"I trust you to find an adequate replacement. Preferably someone not interested in a one on one battle with me, if you please. Oh and as for our former #4." 

"Termination? He's sort of helping us." 

"No. That would be highly risky. Use him. I need not say don't trust him. I will deal with him as need be when the time comes. Don't tell him we've been in contact. For now, syeona" 

As Phinx answers the same I thumb the off switch and look at Kurapika. "There, that's handled for a while." 

KURAPIKA: 

"I don't suppose a translation is possible?" I ask, a trifle plaintively. Quoll's native language is a peculiar mix of words that almost make sense but don't. Even when he was speaking a language I understood I'd little idea what they were talking about. I can't blame him for being so secretive, but it is annoying, none the less. 

Quoll shrugs, tossing the cell phone in his hand consideringly, then putting it away in the glove compartment. "If it rings again, do _not_ answer it," he tells me. "As for a translation what we were discussing was what they're up to right now, which has nothing to do with our little side-trip. At least I _hope_ it doesn't." 

I look at him, at the thoughtful expression on Quoll's face and know perfectly well I have no right to ask, "And just what _are_ they up to?" 

"Investigating those missing Star City citizens," he says after a moment. "You remember I mentioned them earlier. It's a convoluted situation and one that it's better you don't know too much about at the moment – just in case someone questions you." 

"Should I presume by Number 4 you mean Hisoka?" At his rolled eyes, I can't help but snort. I can't really blame Quoll for not wanting Hisoka to know that I've released his _nen_. Not when Hisoka's main purpose in life is to find and fight the strongest _nen_ users in the world. I'm not really one to judge, but I would suspect that Quoll would be quite a challenge, with all his stolen _nen_. 

Quoll starts the car again. "He _is_ a problem," he murmurs. "One I'd prefer to avoid until we've finished our business together. I don't believe in fighting battles on more than one front if it can be avoided." 

I nod in agreement, then a thought occurs to me. "Quoll?" He glances my way and I ask, "Why in the hell did you trust him? I mean, you're supposed to be a tactician. He's good at lies, but even _I_ would have known better." 

A thoughtful expression crosses Quoll's face. "True enough. The trouble was, he was one of us, or at least I believed he was. You can't spend your time second-guessing your hands and feet. Not when they're supposed to be part of you. For what little it's worth, he's ensured he's going to get what he wants from me." The smile on his face holds little humor as he continues, "but on _my_ terms and in _my_ own time. He was not a traitor in the literal sense, having never really been one of us, but simply by pretending to be one of us, he betrayed everything we stand for." The grim tone in his voice doesn't bode well for Hisoka. 

It hits me then, what Quoll's weakest point really is. "You can't do anything against your family," I blurt out and see his expression shift, just for the briefest moment into a look of raw pain that vanishes so quickly that I'm not sure it really happened. Oddly enough, though, I understand. I've hit on the real reason he sought out my people. Not just to learn to control his Eyes, because he does a pretty decent job of that, but because he needs and wants a family. "I I'm sorry I took them away from you" I tell him softly, realizing that I'd dealt him a blow much deeper than I'd ever intended. _Or maybe I knew it instinctively I couldn't have hurt him much worse._ "I wouldn't have been, then, but now." 

Quoll is silent for a very long moment. Then, at last, he says, "You didn't kill them. Cold comfort, perhaps, but I'd expected to lose half of them if I didn't work out a way around the prophecy." Another silence follows, then, before I can say anything more, he shifts into his more cheerful mode. "Anyway, enough with the gloomy angst. Think you're up to a work-out?" 

QUOLL: 

I dodge sideways, rolling and tumbling out of reach of Kurapika's chains, even as he uses his dowsing ability to redirect them after me. I use _in_ to conceal myself from them and sense his confusion. "_Gyou_," I call out to him, even as I twist out of the way. 

Kurapika blinks at me momentarily, then realizes what I'm telling him to do. A moment later he's focusing his _gyou_ more tightly and the dowsing responds immediately. If I wasn't blocking the blow with my _ten_ and _ren_ combined I'd be out like a light. "Well done. Time to stop though. We'll need to lay a trail for the next few hours." 

"Then shift off in another direction?" 

"No," I answer, smiling. "It's risky, but I'm going to keep on this path for a while longer afterwards. But no _nen_ use once we've established the pattern." 

Kurapika looks at me with a puzzled expression that slowly works itself out. "You're hoping they'll assume you're laying a false trail, then sticking on it even though it would be stupid to do so?" 

I nod. "I don't dare do this often. Depending on the enemy's intelligence is almost as bad as depending on their stupidity. We'll consider this a test of the opposition." 

Kurapika climbs into the passenger seat and digs into his pack for a water bottle. "I suppose," he says, "it's better than waiting around for them to make the first move." He cocks his head at me and adds, "I don't suppose there's any way I could convince you to talk these ideas over with me, instead of just deciding?" 

As I take my place at the driver's wheel, I nod, realizing that – yet again – I've managed to treat him like a subordinate. I know it bothers him, but it's hard not to be Danchou when my life's on the line. I say as much, adding, "But I'll try to remember that you're not one of my Ryodan." 

"Good," Kurapika tells me, then glances sideways as me as I set the car in motion. "And before you even bother offering, the answer is _still_ 'No. I am _not_ interested.'" 

I can't help but give him a startled look. _Am I that obvious, or is he beginning to know how I think?_ I wonder. I _had_ been going to tease him about joining up. I push the question off, allowing it to mull in my mind for later. Instead I simply smile, "Too bad. By our rules, you'd have every right to a position." At his widened eyes I add, "You defeated Ubo in combat." 

With a wince, Kurapika shakes his head. "That was different. I certainly didn't do it so I could join up." 

"I know," I answer and add, more seriously, "Kurapika, Nobunaga was Ubo's best friend – since before I started the Ryodan – and he is _not_ going to be happy with leaving the situation alone. If there's anyone likely to go against me over this, it's him. Never turn your back on him." 

He stares straight ahead. "Wing-sama said something once about cycles of vengeance," he says finally. "I didn't listen at the time. I'll watch out." He pauses and adds a bit wryly, "Of course, it'd help if I knew what he looked like." 

"I'll see what I can do about that." 

KURAPIKA: 

The next few hours are spent shifting directions, choosing back roads and, at least once, doubling back on ourselves. At regular intervals we stop and – as Quoll puts it – work out our aggressions on each other. It's strange to find myself fighting him without wanting to kill him, equally strange to find myself learning. Not that I think I've learned everything there is to know about _nen_ but I'm beginning to realize how much I don't know. 

Quoll is a good teacher, too. Patient and precise in his explanations, giving neither too little information nor too much. When I comment on that, however, he shrugs, saying, "You're a good listener, and you had a good teacher start you off. It took me several months to get the others started." 

"You taught them?" 

"I got them started, then found adequate teachers when they knew more than I could teach." Quoll looks thoughtful as he gazed down the road. "I'm the only one in the group with my form of _nen_, so I couldn't really teach them more than the basics." 

Somehow I know better than to ask which form of _nen_ Quoll uses. It's similar to mine, I'm certain of that much. Instead I ask, "Where did _you_ learn it?" 

Quoll shrugs. "That's another of those complicated questions about my past," he tells me. "Best to wait until we get to our destination. Though _some_ of what I learned was from the family of that white-haired friend of yours. He _is_ a Zoldick, isn't he?" 

My eyes widen as I stare at him. "How did you" 

"He has Illumi's eyes and the old man's hair." A small smile crosses Quoll's face. "Not to mention the family self-control. The other one with black hair would have tried to escape. The Zoldick boy had the sense to wait until you could give him a chance." As I hesitate over the answer, he shakes his head. "You don't have to confirm it, Kurapika. It doesn't matter aside from being a matter of interest." 

Nodding, I turn to another subject, "It's getting late. What are we going to do about resting?" 

"None tonight, I'm afraid. It's time to stop all use of powers and drive as far as we possibly can. Which means I'll have to stay up tonight... Unless you've a suggestion regarding my plans, that is?" The last seems like a hurried afterthought, and I appreciate that he's actually _trying_ to treat this like a partnership. 

"Not really," I answer. "But, you know, I _can_ drive. And I've been napping." 

Quoll considers that for a moment, then nods, slowing the car down at the side of the road. "All right," he agrees. "Just stay on this road. Wake me if you think there's anything wrong. The further we can go straight from here, the better." He gets out and climbs in back. "You're sure?" 

"Of course. Besides, he who drives gets to choose what to listen to," I reach out and play with the switches until I find a classic music station as an amused look crosses his face. "Sleep tight, Quoll." 

To Be Continued 

* * *

Author's Notes: 

I lost a good friend to pneumonia this last month, so my ability to write has been a bit limited The muse is slowly waking back up, though, so hopefully chapters and stories promised will be heading out more quickly in the very near future. 

This chapter's a bit more of a conversation piece than anything else. Next time I hope to have some action going on. 

Hareta & Aelys: Thanks muchly for the compliments. 

Silver: I've been enjoying writing K&K's interplay hopefully as much as you are reading it. 

BLuNT: For some reason your URLs never come through. Can you email the pics to me? Oh, and check out ;, if you've got the bandwidth to handle a 4 meg animated .GIF. If not, I'll be shifting the pics involved to static in the near future. Oh, yes, and Star City is likely to be a revelation for Kurapika. 

Shinomori: I agree, I think, that it would be a bit disjointed if I went with a sequel, even if this is forcing me to think harder, sooner than I'd planned. *sigh*. Yes, the shrunk items are in stasis. I *think* I mentioned it in an earlier episode, but my brain isn't a good place to be for memories and they run off when they get a chance. 

Yukitsu: Oh good! Someone noticed that the dreams were the same. I have a reason for it. Heck, I usually have a reason for anything I do when I'm writing. 

Ryo: Hey! Nice to see you! (I promise, more Detective Conan is in the works Heiji's being obstinate and Ysabet's recent murder method forced me to think of a new one grumble). I'm glad if Quoll's getting good press because of this story. (Points over at Lynlyn's "Wild Hearts" and suggests it as another good Quoll story.) Yes, strap on Yaoi is my least favorite. Artistically as well as by reading. I've got another idea for the pair of them that will make certain this isn't a Yaoi story though, but I'm not sure if it'll work out yet. 


	10. Caravan

An Amusing Interlude: Part 10: Caravan – In which Quoll and Kurapika are forced to choose an alternative travel method.   
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. (They don't belong to a certain other person either, but that's beside the point. Heh.) 

* * *

_Cold walls of steel and glass rise around me. Beyond them, silent watchers gaze at me, their eyes open but showing nothing of their thoughts. I shudder under the force of their regard, the cold judgment with which they watch me. _

_"Again, Q013," a metallic voice says in the darkness above me. I turn to face the next machine and prepare to fight for my life. I am not the first they have brought here. Not the first they have fashioned to their needs. If I am not to follow in the footsteps of my predecessors I must obey. I must learn. Though my body trembles with exhaustion I must grow. Grow until I am strong enough. _

_Grow until I can free myself. _

__

QUOLL: 

"I'm sorry, officer. I'll move along immediately. I just stopped to wake my companion" 

Kurapika's voice, or more precisely, the tension in it, draws me out of sleep as forcefully as a smack on the shoulder or a shout. I keep my eyes closed, though, listening to the conversation. 

"You were asleep," a man's voice says. The voice of authority everywhere. Weary, distrustful and promising all sorts of retribution if its recipient doesn't cooperate. I frown slightly, wondering why the hell Kurapika hadn't woken me if he was too tired to keep driving. 

"Yes, sir. I'm afraid I'd gotten a bit tired. I just closed my eyes a moment." 

"I'll need to see your identification." I hear Kurapika cooperating with the officer. 

As the man goes back towards his car, I sit up. "We can't let him call in," I tell my companion. Kurapika looks at me helplessly. "No time to discuss it. Am I right or not?" 

"You're right but do you have to kill" I'm out of the car before Kurapika can finish the sentence. Out of the car and summoning my Skill Book. The officer is turning, hand on his pistol, as I choose the page. _Deep Night Slumber_. He slumps and I turn the power onto his partner before he can call for back up. "Quoll" Kurapika says as he gets out of the car. 

"Not dead," I reassure him. "That would be worse than letting him call you in." I flip thru the pages to another Skill, _Lost Day and Night._ The energy flickering around my hand flows through the two men and wipes the memory of what had happened from their minds. They'll lose a whole day in the process – the ability is not as precise or as neat as Pakunoda's was. I tell Kurapika as much, carting the first officer over to the car and settling him comfortably in his seat. 

Kurapika follows me. "Don't forget the video tape," he says. "And what if they called in the license number before?" 

I stop and blink at him. "Damn." I'd been moving too fast and too concerned with justifying my actions to my companion to think about all the other potential difficulties. "Damn, damn, damn." 

"The tape's easy to deal with," Kurapika murmurs, leaning into the car and fiddling with the apparatus. "As for the call-in. They didn't have my driver's license at the time and if I understood Mr. Sirsun earlier, there's no record of our renting this car." 

I nod, partly irritated with myself for having not thought of those things earlier and partly irritated at being put so far off balance that Kurapika has to straighten _me_ out. _Which is stupid, frankly. I'm just as capable of making mistakes as anyone else. Just be glad that he's not the type to gloat._ "Good thinking," I tell him after a moment. "Let's get moving, then. They're sure to have back up and I want to get as far as we can before any possible pursuit starts." 

"It's too bad you haven't stolen a skill that can change the color of the car. Or its license," Kurapika says as we head back and I take the driver's seat. 

I laugh sourly. "That's one of the negatives of Skill Hunting. You get what you can steal and no more. So far I've not had an opportunity to steal a skill like that. Believe me, I would if I found one." 

"Quoll, you'd steal the ability to scratch the back of your head without moving your fingers if you found one," Kurapika shoots back at me sourly. 

KURAPIKA: 

_Now where did _that_ come from?_ I wonder as Quoll's eyes go incredibly wide and he starts to stare at me, only to force his eyes back on the road. 

"You know, you've been hanging around me too long," Quoll murmurs after a long silent moment. "Are you feeling all right?" 

"No. I'm not," I answer, tiredly. "I am _really_ wiped out. I've never driven so far before. I'm sorry not to wake you, by the way. I tried and you just lay there like a log." 

Frowning, Quoll shakes his head. "That's strange. I don't usually sleep that heavily except when I'm with someone I tru" He stops, blinking, and stares ahead of him for a moment before saying. "I don't usually sleep that heavily." 

I know the word Quoll was going to say. Know too that he nearly made an admission that he doesn't want to make. Accepting me as a travel companion is one thing. Asking me to go with him to his home yet another. _Trusting_ me, a third and very different thing. For him to feel safe enough around me to allow him to sleep without care means a shift in very basic attitudes. I'm going to have to remember that for future reference. 

"Next time I'll shake you awake." I yawn, "For now, I'm going to take a nap." I lean back in my seat and prepare to do just that. 

Quoll chuckles softly. "I thought you already took one." 

"Not a very good one. I had a lousy dream," I tell him. "Must be the result of hanging around you too much." I close my eyes and go to sleep. 

QUOLL: 

_Lousy dream? Him too?_ I don't know why it bothers me. Bad dreams happen. Hell, I'd had one myself just before those policemen interrupted. Something is trying to work its way into my conscious thoughts but somehow I can't work out what it is. 

In the meantime there's the problem of getting to Star City without attracting any more notice. We're going to have to ditch the car. Shrink it back down and get another elsewhere. Kurapika's not going to like it but I don't think we can avoid doing so without outright theft _Unless we could work out a trade?_ I remember something Phinx had mentioned when I'd recovered from my last visit to the Kurota's village. A group that might – just might – be willing to assist me a second time. For a price. 

I drive for most of the morning before coming to a small dusty little town in the middle of nowhere. As I stop the car, Kurapika wakes up and looks around. "Where are we?" 

"Belin, according to the map," I answer, getting out and stretching. All this driving is beginning to take its toll on my back. "It's barely a dot beside the road." 

Kurapika climbs out of his side and stretches as well. "So. What do we do now?" 

I raise a brow at him. "Are you asking me to take charge again?" I ask, amused, and he gives me a sour look. "I've got some ideas, but before we do anything else, I think we should have lunch over at that fine restaurant," I gesture at the rather dilapidated building that served as the town's one inn. 

Kurapika looks at the building. "Five star, obviously," he says dryly, as he heads towards the entrance. "Do you think they'll let us in, dressed like this?" 

Chuckling, I follow. 

KURAPIKA: 

"The way I see it, we have only a few choices. We could go on foot – in which case it'll take us a year to reach Star City." Quoll stirs his coffee and sips it, making a face at the flavor. 

I glare at my companion. "Be serious." 

"I am," Quoll answers, smiling. "We'd also need some special underwater gear, considering we're on the wrong bloody continent." 

Taking a sip of my iced tea, I shake my head. "You, Quoll, are a smart ass." At his satisfied smile, I wave my hand at him. "Why don't you give the reasonable possibilities?" 

Quoll nods, going serious suddenly. "In the end we'll need to get to a plane or a ship. Either would work, but a plane has the advantage of being quicker. And surely we can't hope for another bit of Transit Performance Art courtesy of the terrorists of the week. A ship leaves too much time for our pursuit to trace us." 

"Is it at all possible to get a private plane?" I ask, trying not to smile at his description of our friends from the last plane flight. 

"Possible, yes. But I'll point out that I have no skills as a pilot. Do you?" As I shake my head, he sighs. "Too bad, but too much to hope for." Quoll sits back from his lunch and wipes his fingers. "All right. Then we either take a regular commercial flight – which means getting to one of the local airports – or we have to get access to a slightly more illicit means of flight." 

I don't understand him and I say as much. Quoll shrugs. "The last time we were here, we made contact with a group of alternative transportation specialists," he tells me. "We can see if they're still in the area. Perhaps with your ability to scry?" 

"Oh." I'm non-plussed. On one hand I don't like the idea of using people who – unless I misunderstand Quoll – are basically outlaws. On the other hand, if we're going to get to where we're going, without getting caught by our various pursuit, then worrying about legalities may not be the best of ideas. "All right. I can't think of anything better for the moment." 

QUOLL: 

I scan the horizon, using all my senses. "Do you feel them?" I ask Kurapika, who nods slowly. "At least twenty. We'll have to move slowly and quietly. Try to follow my lead. These aren't the sort of people you deal with on a regular basis." I frown. "To be honest, I'm not sure they're the sort of people _I_ deal with on a regular basis, either. The last time I was here, I was raving, barely aware of my surroundings. The others negotiated our escape with these people and I only know that – for a price – they will transport anything and anyone." 

"I understand," Kurapika answers with acerbity. "Do you have any other warnings, noble leader?" 

"Yeah. Don't run with scissors and always look both ways," I answer and grin at the way he rolls his eyes at me. "Actually, if you think something's wrong or need to warn me of trouble" I hesitate over the suggestion, but it's the only one that will really work without alerting anyone. "call the Ruby Eyes for a moment." 

Kurapika blinks at me fro a long startled moment. "But." 

"If _I_ do it, we end up fighting each other, yes. But we've already established I can stand your calling them for short periods of time." I sigh, starting up the slope towards the men I know are waiting for us. I don't _like_ the idea of Kurapika using the Ruby Eyes, but it really is the only thing that he can use as a warning without being obvious. These people have _nen_ users. I can see that in the way they've concealed themselves up the hillside. 

"All right," Kurapika answers, following me. I can see him imitating my walk, keeping his movements clear and his hands where they can be seen. "Are you sure these are the right people?" 

"Who else would be hiding out in the wilderness like this?" I ask. "Besides, you're the one who scryed for them." 

"I scryed for a group of wanderers. There's no guarantee they're the smugglers you think they are," Kurapika points out and I'm forced to agree. "Still, I can't think of another reason why they'd be hiding." 

"Perhaps," a voice says from behind us, "because we don't wish to be found?" 

KURAPIKA: 

I have to force myself not to drop into a defensive stance as I turn to face the speaker. Quoll has less trouble doing so – he must have been expecting someone to creep up on us – and he simply turns, saying, "You have good technique. I didn't sense you at all." 

"Never mind the compliments, boy," the speaker is an old woman dressed in an outfit strangely reminiscent of my own people's costume. "It's been a long time, and you seem in better shape then when I saw you last. Who's the sprat?" 

"A friend of mine," Quoll answers. "We're traveling together for the time being." He bows slightly. "May we visit your encampment? We are in need of some traveling assistance." 

She eyes Quoll, then me, for a long moment. "Come with me." 

A half hour later we're standing at the center of a circle of wagons. Men and women watch us warily and from the safety of darkness beyond I can see small children watching with wide-eyed curiosity. "What's the deal?" the old woman, very obviously the leader, says quietly. "And how much trouble do you bring behind you this time?" 

"Did my last visit bring trouble?" Quoll asks, frowning. "I wasn't aware of the situation." 

"Nothing that we could not handle," the old woman answers grimly. "We sent them to follow your path. Your friends had not paid us enough to conceal you from the sort of creatures that hunted you then. If they pursue you now, we will not block them. Nor hide you if they come upon us while you are here." 

Looking thoughtful, Quoll considers the matter. "Will you at least assist us as far as it does not put your people in danger?" 

"I shall have to confer with my family." The group's leader glances at the others. "It will depend on what you have to offer. I should warn you, money is of little use to us, here. We will barter goods and services, as before. Nothing else." 

QUOLL: 

I curse inwardly. Phinx hadn't really gone into details about how he'd gotten these people's help and I wasn't sure what we could possible do that might serve as a good enough bargaining chip with a group that had no more real interest in money than the Ryodan had. 

"Ma'am?" Kurapika asks in a soft voice. "What services did his friends render you the last time?" 

The old woman glances Kurapika's way. "Healing. The little girl, the one so good with _nen_ threads, did much. Her healing skills were used to my people's benefit. They repaired our caravans. They assisted us during our travels until we reached our airfield. I warn you, our plane is old and our pilot overworked. If you expect to use them again, you put your lives at risk." 

It occurs to me that we do indeed have something to barter, but it depends on Kurapika. I glance at him, careful not to let my expression betray my thoughts. I don't want to push him into making any offers. I know how uncomfortable he must be with the situation, after all. 

Rather to my relief, however, Kurapika murmurs, "I have healing abilities. I'm sure Quoll can help with other things, too." 

I nod, agreeing. "If it's in my ability to do, I'll help as much as possible," I tell the old woman. "Though I suspect you'll find Kurapika's skills more useful than mine." 

The old woman eyes us both, expression showing nothing of her thoughts. "Remember though, that if you are followed, or if your enemies catch up with you, we will not put ourselves in danger for you." I nod agreement and she glances at the others. They talk quietly in their own language for several minutes until, at last she turns back to me. " Very well. You may come with us and we will permit you use of our plane. Given, of course, your pursuit does not find you." 

To Be Continued 

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Another low action episode, but hopefully one that helps move things along. I was going to get them to Comet Star City this chapter, but things just didn't work out. They have a bit of traveling to do, unfortunately. Next chapter I hope to put some action in, _and_ get them to their destination. 

Just as a note, I've _temporarily_ turned off anonymous reviews. If you can't log in to review, don't worry. I'll turn it back on in a day or so – about Thursday, probably. I'm wanting to see if a certain troll is desperate enough for attention to try and review with a real identity. If not, I can always delete her again. I refuse to dignify her foolishness with attempts to argue. (Especially laughable considering this isn't, and probably won't become, a Yaoi fic.) 

Masami: Losing a friend to a fire is terrible. (Offers Masami a hug). My friend wasn't a young woman and she wasn't well for a long time, so in a way it was a relief. I still wish I'd been able to do something for her. Thanks for the nice review. 

Silver: Kurapika and Quoll did that routine to me while I was listening to our local "Easy Listening" station. I couldn't resist putting it in, now that it won't kill Quoll. 

Shinomori: I don't disagree with the idea that music doesn't need intellect to appreciate. But Quoll may not be able to stop thinking and analyzing the music if it's something more complicated than brain candy. You're right about the song, by the way. Another thing to fix in the final version. Quoll as arrogant bastard. Isn't he just? grin Though he's also being ironic about his reputation, not claiming it's true. Re: Hoshnin. I figure that there almost has to be more than one language spoken in Togashi's universe, for all that he doesn't seem to acknowledge it. Hoshnin is, however, original to me. And you picked up on the languages I'm mangling for it very well. It's essentially a sub-dialect similar to New Orleans Creole. A schtick I borrowed directly from the movie Fifth Element. Hisoka I might just end up using him, but I'm not sure I want to be the one to kill him or Quoll off and frankly I don't think either would let the other go. 

Bleeding Heart: I might change Kurota to Kuruta when I do my fixes. Depends on if I find my copies of the manga where the tribe's name is shown. 

Lynlyn: It's looking less and less like I'll be doing a Yaoi fic this time around, which makes yours all the more fun for me because of the difference. (Don't let that silly wench scare you off, by the way. "She" is either a troll or just a silly nutcase, not worth the time/trouble of responding to. You can delete her review if you think it's worth the time/effort.) Thanks for the compliment on Quoll and Kurapika being in character. I like their interaction. Re: The language. See my comments to Shinomori. I'll have to clarify what Quoll and Phinx are talking about. You guessed right in your email to me, btw. I agree that if there's any teaching going on, it's going to be Quoll teaching Kurapika. Kura's good, but he's younger than Quoll by what, 5 years? He needs experience. (Shuts the Gallery up since they're busy suggesting the sort of experience he needs. *sigh*) I think you're right about Wing not being Kurapika's teacher. Does anyone know the man's name so I can correct it? Don't worry about condolences. I'm lousy at 'em too. 

Ryo: Thanks! I think that idea is going to work. And boy is Kurapika in for a shock. Heh. 

Yukitsu: I'm glad you like the way it's going, though I fear you may be disappointed in the end with the non-Yaoi solution I'm likely to go with. Re: The dream. Yeah, not hard to catch, but you're the only one who commented on it.


	11. Companions

An Amusing Interlude: Part 11: Companions – In which Quoll and Kurapika discover one of the hazards of their relationship.   
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

* * *

_I hurry up the pathway past well-remembered landmarks. That tree there, a rock over there shaped like a squirrel. That spot, where I last saw my best friend.. It will be so good to get back, to return to the one place where I most belong. The place my soul calls home. _

_Except there is an odor. A stinking burning scent of overcooked meat. The sound of flies, buzzing so loudly that the noise is practically a vibration in the skin. As I round the corner and step into the meadow just outside the gateway, with its message of kindly welcome, I see why. _

_The corpses are scattered everywhere. From here all the way up the trail into the village. I run, run past the dead, seeing faces I know and others I should know but for the horrible damage. Each and every one of them are dead. My family. My friends. My entire tribe – wiped out as if they'd never existed. _

_Some are slashed in half. Others broken. Still others shot to death. One thing, however, is consistent. Each and every one of them are missing their eyes._

*** 

KURAPIKA:   
I sit up fast, gasping for air, the memory of that day sending shudders through me. As I turn my gaze on the man who caused that horror I see him sitting up in his bunk with a sharp cry. He's gasping as well, struggling for breath and looking near ready to scream. I can sense his eyes trying to turn, the power within him attempting to break free. Sweat dampens his black hair and his pale face is drawn and exhausted. It is the horror in his expression that hits hardest though. A horror that cuts off my own anger. I can forgive what happened to my people but I fear I can never truly forget the pain. Neither, it seems, can he. 

Before I can say anything the sound of someone rushing up the steps to the caravan Quoll and I share and the curtain is thrust sideways. Marva, the leader of the Kal gypsies glares into the tent. "That," she says with quiet anger, "Is quite enough of that. From here on, the two of you will _not_ sleep at the same time." 

I think my stare is echoed perfectly by my companion. "What?" he says, sounding a bit more stunned than I suspect he means to. 

"The two of you will not sleep at the same time. Your dreams and nightmares are bad enough for yourselves. I refuse to have them shared with the entire camp." She is, I suddenly realize, dressed for sleep – the heavy cotton gown and kerchief rumpled and twisted around her plump body. I realize too that my mind is focusing on the little things because what she has just said isn't something I really want to think about. 

Despite this, however, I am still the first to say, "Share? Our dreams our nightmares?" 

"Damn." Quoll twists around and puts his head in his hands. "I should have realized." His voice holds a sense of horror at its depths, as if something has been confirmed that he does not want to accept. 

I wish _I_ understood. Or rather I don't want to believe what I do understand. I don't want to admit any of this to Marva, however. Instead I bow to her and – in as humble a voice as possible – apologize. "We will do as you ask, ma'am." 

"See that you do," she says huffily as she clambers back out of the caravan. Once she's gone I turn to my companion and wait for an explanation. 

QUOLL:   
My head is aching and the only thing I really want to do right now is thrust it into a bowl of cold water up to the neck. Possibly not bothering to come back up. Marva's revelation has hit hard and I'm not at all sure how Kurapika is going to react. _And why does it terrify you that he will run. That he will reject you entirely?_ The answer is something I ought to try and examine, but I can't. Not right now. 

In the silence between us, I tense, waiting for anger. Waiting for the rage I'm sure is going to be aimed my way. _And since when did it matter so much?_

Rather to my surprise, Kurapika merely says, "I don't want to believe what this implies, but. We're linked somehow, aren't we?" His voice is utterly quiet and very calm. A forced calm, I'm certain, but a very real one, none the less. I nod, still not looking at him and he continues, "Then that dream I had when we were in the car. That was yours?" 

I have to think hard to even remember the dream. It's one I have so often that it had barely registered past that morning – especially considering that it had been interrupted by our dealings with the police. "Yes," I agree. "If you dreamed that you were being trained that was mine." 

"And the day before. Back at the village. The dream where I ripped your eyes out Mine." He sounds sick, as if he hates thinking even his subconscious would be so vicious. 

I hurry to reassure him. "Could have been mine, too. You're not the only one whose dreamed of that before." 

"The point remains. We've formed some sort of linkage." It startles me to find him so calm about this. I was sure he would be screaming at me, blaming me somehow for what has happened. I nod again, startled at how miserable I'm feeling. It isn't the link that bothers me, but the knowledge that he must loathe it with all his heart. 

There's a long silence and I wait for him to get up. Wait for him to leave. He does rise, but only to say, "Of the two of us, I think you may need more sleep right now. We'll have to work out a schedule, of course, but that can wait until we're both clear-headed." 

I listen to him walk to the door and can't help but say, "Kurapika." 

"It's my fault. I pried too deep. I forced the link. I didn't realize what your eyes could do and now I'm paying the price." He pauses. "I'm sorry, Quoll. The only one to blame for this is myself. You would never have allowed this to happen if it had been up to you." As he leaves the 'van he adds, "Get some rest. We can talk later." 

KURAPIKA:   
I take a deep breath of cool morning air. The plains where the Kal live aren't especially like the forests where I grew up, but it's far more pleasant to me than the hustle and bustle of the city. I almost think that – when this is over, if it ever can be – I will return to the woods and stay there. 

Seeing Marva standing over the cook fire I go to join her. "I apologize," I tell her quietly. "Neither of us realized that we were sharing dreams. We certainly didn't realize we were projecting." 

The old woman eyes me, deep blue eyes of a color that the sky might have bled meeting mine with an intent gaze. "Indeed," she agrees. "Such I realize. None the less – as long as you are among us – you must take adequate precautions. Your friend is a fighter and skilled. He will do well enough on the night watch." 

I nod agreement. "We'll never be able to sleep at the same time again," I add. "I don't want to inflict such dreams on anyone and – the two of us have issues that may never be fully resolved." 

A strange smile crosses Marva's face as she hands me a bowl of porridge. "I doubt many would have the same problem as the Kal," she notes. "Yet – with issues such as yours – keeping your dreams separate for the while would be wisdom." 

I would puzzle out her odd comments, but the sound of children squabbling interrupts my thoughts and causes me to turn. They are young, two small boys that remind me so much of myself and Jurik that I'm lost in memory for a moment. By the time I even remember my questions the camp has woken and is continuing on its way. 

"The airfield is a day's travel," one of the men tell me as I help him with the horses. "By noon tomorrow, given no troubles, we will arrive." 

"Given no troubles?" I have to ask. "What sort of troubles are likely?" 

He grins, a broad, spirited smile that somehow reminds me of Gon. "The authorities do not love us, though they usually leave us alone, in return for the proper bribes," A chuckle escapes him. "And, of course, there are others who roam these hills. Bandits, mostly small and with better sense than to attack a full group of Kal. The only such with equal numbers have learned quite well to respect our abilities." 

I look at him. A light skinned man, dark haired, with the same intense blue eyes as Marva's. A kinsman of hers, perhaps, though there is something else about those eyes that make me feel as if I ought to know them. I shake off the thoughts. I know nothing of the Kal. My travels when I left home for training had not taken me so far south. Perhaps I am only seeing something familiar because my mind wants to connect. I like these people, like their lifestyle and their customs. I could, I think, live among them happily if they allowed it. 

_Don't be nonsensical, Kurapika,_ I scold myself. The Kal aren't as insular as my own tribe – several of the clan seem to have once been outsiders after all – but they weren't likely to accept some stranger who had just wandered into their midst as one of them. _Besides. You _aren't_ one of them. You never can be anything but Kurota._

I climb up onto the caravan and glance through the curtains at Quoll. He's tossing and turning, but doesn't seem aware of my presence. I realize that the link bothers him a lot more than he wanted it to and I think I even know why. It isn't something he wants to admit, I suspect, but he is a man who needs contacts, needs people around him, even if it's just one or two well trusted friends. Somehow, despite everything that ought to say differently, he has formed a peculiar friendship with me and it matters to him if I am angry with him. 

_I'm not, though. I'm angry at myself. I did this to both of us. He would never have allowed what happened on his own._ I have learned a lot about his personality in the last few days and while he may need and want friends, he also needs to keep a part of his Self separate and secure. It has to do with his Eyes. It has to do with how he was trained. I've made him vulnerable in a way that he never thought possible. In a way that I'm certain he can hardly bear. I have to force back the shame I feel for what has happened between us. For what I have done to us in my determination to get answers.

"Are you waiting, perhaps, for the sun to rise high above our heads, that it will cast no shade?" one of our new companions asks me. "We ride. Now." His visible eye, night black and deep, meets mine with a calm consideration that makes me think of the way Quoll, somehow. Its color, no doubt. He is older than Quoll though, with a long, thin and well tanned face, a patch hiding the other eye. 

"Now Karik, allow the boy some leeway. He is new to the task and may have trouble remembering that the horses go before the cart," someone says from among the other side. Startled out of my reverie and deeply embarrassed, I cluck at the horses and start the caravan moving. 

QUOLL:   
Despite my best efforts, it's difficult to fall back asleep and when I do it's a restless one. It's only when the 'van begins moving that I finally sink into a deeper sleep. Dreamless, for which I am grateful, since I think this is the first such sleep I've had in a long while. At last I awake and if I am not fully refreshed, I am feeling a hell of a lot better than I was earlier. 

The 'van is still moving and I push the curtains aside to find Kurapika in the driver's seat. "You have hidden talents," I comment wryly. "Do you want to nap a while? I think I could take over." 

"That's all right. I'll nap some this afternoon." Kurapika's voice is thoughtful as he scoots over to make room for me. "Quoll? I'm not upset with you, if that's your worry." 

I glance at him and get a reassuring nod in return. Not a full, friendly smile, but that would be too much to hope for, no doubt. "A bit," I have to admit. "This isn't really a state of affairs I'm prepared to deal with. Having you as an enemy was easier. I knew where I stood. Now I don't know how to deal with you." The admission startles me as much as it obviously does him. "I'm not smart and savvy about everything," I add, a bit exasperated with my own reputation. "And you have to admit, this isn't the usual kind of thing a thief deals with." 

After a moment he laughs softly. "Nor a Hunter," he admits. "Did you get a good sleep? You'll be on night watch." 

I nod. "Enough for that. Don't suppose there's some food?" 

One of the Kal riding beside us, a man with a direct and stubborn look in his remaining eye, makes a gesture behind him. A minute later someone comes riding up with a loaf of bread and some meat. "Until we camp for the night," he says, "That will have to be all." 

"T'is enough, T'will do," I answer. "Thank you." 

"Mmph. Tonight we will see if you earn your keep. We are close to Maz territory. Those _siiteri_ have a new leader who may need reminding that the Kal bend to no one." He eyes me, as if considering my abilities carefully. "You look like nothing, but appearances are deceiving. I hope – in your case – they are." 

I bow slightly and he returns the bow with a similarly mocking edge to it before he rides forward to check something in the next 'van up. 

"Karik's job is to protect the caravans," Kurapika says quietly. "I think he's worried about something." A faint frown makes me wonder if Kurapika is as well and I ask him as much, eliciting a wry smile. "Yes. The word he used _siiteri_ is almost like a Kurota word, _sitri_." 

"Viper. Yes, it does sound similar." Considering that for a moment, I note, "Well, the Kurota didn't just descend from the heavens onto their mountain. I'd be deeply surprised if there weren't some linguistic commonalities among your people and others from this region. They dress similar to Kurota too, if a bit more roughly and with more brilliant colors." I have to force myself to speak lightly, not letting myself think too hard about what I'm saying or about the Kurota. 

Kurapika looks suddenly terribly sad. "I wish my people hadn't been so insular. I wish they could have formed relations outside the clan. Did you know that Jurik and I were the only children? That there hadn't been any others for over a decade? There are over fifteen kids he Quoll? Are you all right?" 

It's with an intense effort that I fight back the moan of pain. "Ku" A boy's voice in my mind. _Let's go play, Kura Come back soon, Kura! _

"What? Is the food bad? Is there something wrong?" 

"Have you forgotten that. I can't think about them?" I close my eyes, struggling to force the memories his question has woken back. They want release but I can't let them. Not yet. Not ever, perhaps. Not when I can_not_ assimilate all that I have stolen. 

Kurapika whispers, "I'm sorry. That was stupid." He reaches out to squeeze my shoulder in a reassuring gesture and I'm rather surprised to find myself calming down. "Very stupid," he continues. "I _know_ what you're carrying up there and I go and ask you a question certain to make you think of it. You better now?" 

"For now," I agree. "Kurapika. The answers to your question are in Comet Star City. Until then Please be patient." 

KURAPIKA:   
The rest of the day – when I'm not napping in the back – is spent carefully avoiding the subject of our mutual dreams, our past and our destination. Instead we simply pay attention to the landscape, Quoll with a bit less appreciation than I, I suspect, and help out where we can. It is Quoll who points out – to my chagrin – that healing assistance risks bringing our pursuit down onto the Kal's heads. Fortunately, there don't seem to be any members of the clan in need of medical assistance. 

"Although, if the Nostrad's don't know one of your chains has healing abilities, we may be safe enough. It's too bad my own _nen_ doesn't include such things, since I don't think they can trace us if they don't know the nature of our skill," he adds as we join the rest of the clan around the fire for supper. "Marva? It's up to you. Considering that it was part of our bargain with you, I'll understand if you want to call it off." 

"To tell the truth," the old woman says quietly, "Your abilities to heal are not as important to us as your abilities to fight." She considers the two of us as we take our meals and sit beside her. "Karik has mentioned to you that the Maz may cause us problems tonight." 

I nod. "But who _are_ the Maz?" 

"A gang of thieves," Quoll answers and smiles wryly at my raised brow. "When you're in the business I am, it's always best to know the competition. We've never been in a position to deal with them before – unless my friends helped you with them the last time?" 

"No. At that time the Maz chief knew us and knew we were not to be trifled with. This new one – a man named Brilue – believes himself immortal, or would like those who follow him to believe it. We have had signs that they may have been convinced to test themselves against us." She shrugs. "T'is always a risky thing, to listen to the fortunes. We do not seek out trouble. Nor do we assume every word of a possible future is what it seems to be. So – for now – we are simply more wary than we would be ordinarily." 

With a nod, Quoll glances at me. "I have had some experience with prophecy," he tells her. "It seems to me that one might just as well do what one is going to do and deal with the consequences, rather than try and work out every possible nuance of a particular phrase." He shakes his head, looking at me. "Every instinct told me I should have gotten the hell out of Dodge – I mean York Shin," he tells me more quietly. "If I'd listened, you might still be on our tail, but I think we would have been safer." 

He's probably right, too. I would never have been able to trace them, especially if they did end up in Star City. I turn to Marva, deciding that it would be better to focus on the current situation than on the past. "Quoll is probably the better fighter of the two of us, but I'll do my best." It occurs to me that I'll be operating under a handicap. My healing skills are certainly not known to the Nostrad – I had never used them in any of the Family's presence – but the others aren't quite so secret. Well, except for Chain Jail, which I've only used on Ubo and Quoll. 

"If it comes to that," Quoll disagrees, "You'll stay in the back lines and help heal. I mean, I think you should, at least." He looks embarrassed, as he realizes he's trying to boss me around again. _I really am going to have to find a way to break him of that,_ I think, shaking my head at him. "You can't use your _nen_. You're a good fighter, but you really would be better off staying back." 

"I agree," I tell him. On one hand, pride wants me to ignore the sensible path, but I didn't make it this far by allowing my pride to rule me. At the moment it's Quoll who's better equipped to handle a fight without bringing our pursuit down on us. "Just don't use the skill you stole on the plane." 

He crosses his arms. "Teach an old woman to suck eggs while you're at it," he suggests, looking mildly offended. Then he grins and I am forced to grin back in return. 

QUOLL:   
I kneel in the shadows and listen closely to the sounds of the night. I don't like the wilderness but that doesn't mean I can't operate there. So far I've heard nothing out of the ordinary. My other senses are stretched as well, just as are those of the others who share my watch. It intrigues me, sometimes, to see how many _nen_ users there are in this world – especially considering how hard the authorities work to keep the knowledge suppressed. 

_Never mind that. Something at the edge?_ I glance over at Karik, who nods. He's caught a whiff of it too. I gesture at myself, then out into the darkness, giving him a questioning look and he shakes his head as he moves out into the shadows himself. It's strange, not to be in charge, but I remind myself that I don't have any position among these people. _Though I do enjoy them. Wouldn't necessarily mind being one of them, if it weren't for their damnable fondness for nature._

Karik is good. I can't seem to find him with my _gyou_. More, there's something odd about the way he's disappeared. I didn't feel any _nen_ power at all. _What the hell?_ Curiosity has me longing to try and follow, to find out what he's doing, but sense says I should stay at my post. I'd be pretty mad at my Spiders if they went off in the middle of a possible attack. 

A few minutes pass, then Karik fades into view. "They are there. Many more than I would have expected. It seems their leader has managed to convince them of their superiority. They wait for a sign, I think. I will tell the others, then we will make our way to their leader and demonstrate to him that he is not nearly so immortal as he thinks." He beckons one of the others over and whispers quietly into his ear. 

_Great. More waiting._ I'm beginning to chafe at the inactivity and I realize that I'm almost looking forward to the action. It will, I think, distract me from my other troubles. The realization bothers me. I need to stay cool-headed, need to maintain control of myself. I can't afford to behave like Nobunaga or some of the others by fighting as like a maniac. 

"Attention." My thoughts are distracted by the words. The man Karik had called over is speaking aloud, so loudly in fact that I nearly reach out to grab him and shut him up. Except when I turn to look at him, his eyes and his mouth are completely closed and I realize the truth. He's projecting his thoughts! 

KURAPIKA:   
"Attention." 

The voice in my ear is so utterly clear that I think someone is right beside me in my bunk. Except I'm alone. It takes me a moment to realize that it isn't really speech but telepathy. ::_The Maz surround us. It is as we expected. Their leader sits to the south. Karik and the stranger will slip past to engage him. The rest of you are to hold the defenses and permit none through._:: 

The sense of someone's thoughts in mine is startling. The only other time I've felt such a thing is when Quoll mind-spoke me so many days ago, using his eyes. The feeling is similar, though this time I don't feel anything near the rage I'd felt at Quoll's thoughts in my head. _The Kal have their own secrets, it seems._ Now, however, is not the time to question the situation. I slide out of my bunk and look out into the darkness, watching the adults making their way to their posts and I move to join them, taking the position I'd been told to go to, if we were attacked. 

::_They go now. Prepare._:: 

Marva's voice is projected in the same way. ::_Tell Karik not be overconfident, I feel that he is expecting this to be easy._:: 

::_He understands and wishes you to know that he knows how to suck eggs as well._:: I suspect Karik must be embarrassed, but I can't exactly blame him, considering the caution has to have been shared with everyone in the camp. I don't know why, or how, it is that I am included in this link, but – in a way – I'm glad. It means I know what's going on. 

::_The stranger will go last, using his _nen_ as his abilities are not advanced enough to permit him to conceal himself with his other skill._:: I wonder what they mean by his other skill. They can't possibly mean the Eyes, since I can't think of any way the Ruby Eye, or whatever one wants to call what Quoll has, could help in this situation. Something that causes everyone around it to go berserk isn't a thing that could be used for sneaking around, after all. 

Silence falls around us and I wait, wondering just what is happening and wishing I'd been permitted to accompany the guards. The danger somehow seems preferable to being one of those who must stand back and wait. 

QUOLL:   
Using my Skill book and the ability to be invisible, I make my way past roughly dressed men and women wearing knives and guns. My senses are spread as far as they can be, but I simply can't find Karik anywhere. Whatever it is he's doing, it's damned good. I wish I knew what he meant about my other skill not being advanced enough, because I really _could_ use an ability like his. 

_Worst of it is, even if the rules of hospitality didn't deny me a chance at stealing it, whatever it is isn't _nen_ and I can't take it._ I shove the thought aside. I'm getting close to my target. Karik has decided I'm to be the distraction, while he comes in behind the Maz chief and attacks, so I seek out the man – a short red-head standing at the center of a group of men – and, once I'm in position, show myself. 

"WHAT? Where'd he come from?" 

The bandits are pretty well startled and confused by my presence, but they are quick enough to recover as they leap at me. My _benz_ knife flashes in the firelight as I flick one after another and drop them. At the same time I hear Brilue yelling angrily and I see Karik flashing in and out of visibility. Then I have to focus on my own fight. 

Dodging one blow gives me a chance to roll nearer. Karik may have asked for a distraction, but he certainly didn't tell me to stay out of his fight. As I appear in his field of view he gives me a sharp nod and switches attack styles. He's staying to one side of the man, allowing me to concentrate on the other side. 

Something's not right, though. Something about the way the bandit chief moves isn't quite what I'd expect out of a small timer. It's like he's hiding something. Something familiar. As he dodges and my knife slashes his arm, I realize what it is. I've fought someone like this before. 

"Zoldick." 

The man swings around and yells, "Attack. Attack the caravan. I can handle these two until you get hostages!" 

I swear as I roll out of Brilou's way. Admittedly his orders are an obvious ploy and one the others are ready for, but I still would have preferred to finish this here. _Great. Just great. These Zoldicks barely blink at poison and they're bloody good._ I'd nearly gotten my ass wiped across the floor by Illumi's father and grandfather that one time. Of course, I _was_ goofing around trying to steal gramps' _nen_ ability but – despite the compliment he'd paid me at the time – I knew it would have been a difficult fight to win even if I hadn't. 

Blasts of energy, similar to the one I stole, similar to what old man Zoldick had used on me then are striking the ground, sending me flying and reminding me quite forcefully that this is _not_ the time to go off on a tangent. On Brilou's other side, Karik is spinning out of the way of another blast and he shouts at me, "Can't waste any more time. We have to stop him now." 

Brilou says nothing, just keeps blasting at us and dodging and ducking our blows. He's very effective at keeping us back. _Can't get him with just fighting skills,_ I think, drawing out my Skill book and flipping through the pages fast. It's unfortunate that there's no cliff to toss him over, or I'd just teleport him out of the way. Equally unfortunate is the fact that he's keeping his mouth tightly shut about what he's doing. I can't steal his skill if he isn't stupid enough to explain it. _Damn. I may have to use those plasma bolts after all. _

"Stop fooling around with that silly _nen_. Open your eyes!" Karik growls at me angrily. 

"What?" I leap out of the way of a particularly nasty strike and roll back to a standing position. "My eyes _are_" My words break off as I catch sight of Karik's face. In the firelight I initially think it's just a reflection, but then I feel the power. The Ruby Eyes. _No. Not the Ruby Eyes. Like mine. Exactly like mine._

My thoughts are broken off as a blaze of blue-green light knocks me for a loop and sends me flying. 

KURAPIKA:   
I gasp, feeling the flow of energy in the distance. It's far enough away not to be a danger, I think, but for some reason Quoll has released his Eyes. _No. No, damnit! You can't have been that stupid!_ It's strange, though, I don't feel upset by it the way I was before. Perhaps the fact that it isn't nearby, or the fact that it isn't aimed at me, is enough to keep it from being a problem. 

As I start to my feet the sense of strangeness grows. No, that isn't Quoll. There's a different quality to this power. A control to it that Quoll doesn't have. 

"Karik must have run into trouble," Marva says grimly. "He wouldn't use the Opal Eye otherwise." 

"The _Opal_ Eye?" 

She looks at me, surprised expression on her face. "Of course. Like your friend's." When she sees the stunned look on my face, she frowns. "You don't understand. Did your clan forget about that skill entirely?" Shaking her head, she pats me on the shoulder. "Later then. This is not the time to consider such matters. Karik and your friend are fairly strong – even if the lad is less well trained. They should be able to handle the problem and" She points off into the darkness, where the sound of running feet is growing louder, "we have our own." 

A minute or so later we are inundated by rough dressed men and women and I am dodging and evading and hitting. I have to avoid using my _nen_ of course, but against most people I have enough skill to do what has to be done. 

I am beginning to realize that my impression of kinship with these people is not an accident. I can feel others using the Ruby Eye, though I see only one or two whose eyes glow the way mine do. I grab up a whip, swinging it as I would my chain and using it to bring some of the attackers down. _That explains it. They must be some distantly related clan._ It's a kind of shock to me, but it pleases me as well. It means that not everyone of my blood is gone. To be the only Ruby Eye in the world was a terrifying thing. Even the fact that Quoll – sort of – shared my nature, was cold comfort. 

A part of me is still stunned that the Kal seem to regard Quoll's eye as perfectly natural. I have to wonder what that means. There are a lot of questions to be answered and when this fight is over, given we survive, I intend to ask them. 

In the meantime, though, I can only hope that Quoll survives whatever he's doing up there. 

QUOLL:   
"Boy. Wake up! Snap out of it. I need your help!" 

Karik's voice is angry and I feel hands on my shoulder shaking me hard. "What You" I open my eyes and look at him, see the way his one eye is glowing, blazing with shifting colors, flickering reds and blues, greens and yellows. "You're" 

"Get up," he says grimly. "Get up and use your Eyes. I can't fight him alone. He has too strong a will, and I'm weaker than I used to be, with only one eye to focus through." 

I shake my head. "I can't. Don't you understand? I can _not_ to that!" Energy blasts over our heads and we're forced to roll apart. 

"You stupid boy! Why the hell not?" Frustration colors the Kal man's tone and I can't understand how he can be in such control of his Eye when he is so utterly furious. "Do you understand that we are going to get killed if you don't cooperate with me?" 

"I can't control it!" I yell angrily back and feel him flinch back from me. _Damn. Losing control._ I grab onto my _ten_ and hold onto my pulse as tightly as I possibly can. If I lose hold of the Eyes now there's no telling what will happen – not when there's another, just like me – so close at hand. My grip is lost momentarily as I'm forced to dodge. Normally I could handle a situation like this but I've had far too many shocks lately. Kurapika making me relive that day. Discovering our minds our linked. Finding that I'm not nearly as unique as I thought. All is putting me so far off balance that it won't take much more to force me into releasing my power. 

Brilou shouts, "Are you two going to fight? Or shall I kill you where you stand? Stupid fools. Did you really think you could beat me?" 

He's beginning to boast and under other circumstances I'd use the crack in his armor to work him into talking about his power. I'm too busy trying to fight down my own, though, to worry about anything other than avoiding his strikes and keeping my Eyes from destroying us both. Karik is probably safe. He seems to know how to hold his power in, but when I blow it's going to be bad. 

Hands grab me by the shoulders and spin me around to face Brilou. "Open your goddamned EYES!" Karik shouts in my ear. I try to shake my head, but he continues shouting. "I'll keep it under control. Trust me, boy. I _know_ what I'm doing!" 

I'm past fighting it. There's been too much to deal with and I'm so very tired. I open the Eyes, fully expecting to be blasted by the thoughts and memories of those around me. Fully expecting to rip their minds free and destroy them. The power flows through me, striking out and I can feel something trying to keep me under control. 

::_Damn boy. Who the hell trained you?_:: I am barely aware of Karik's question, though, as the anger and pain that I contain within me struggles to break free and shred everything in sight. Blasts of _nen_ energy are striking the ground around us, deflected by the energies flowing around me and – recognizing the enemy – my power twists towards him, grabbing at the bolts he's firing at us and reflecting them back with all my strength. 

I barely hear Brilou's scream. The power is too much for me. It's taking me down and dragging Karik with it. _Knew it. Knew it We're going to die._

KURAPIKA:   
The sense of power in the distance shifts and this time I _know_ it's Quoll's Eyes that have opened. I know to that despite Marva's lack of worry about what she called the Opal Eyes, that Quoll isn't anything remotely resembling safe. 

I can feel it in him, the confusion and anger and pain that is roiling through his mind, parts of him that he has very carefully locked away in the depths of his subconscious and kept under tight control. Parts that, once freed, are a flood of emotions and memories that he can't deal with and can't fight back down. He's drowning in it this time and I can 'hear' his mental gasps as he goes under. 

Panicked, I reach out to him. He's become a friend, not close, but someone whose death would matter to me. We've injured each other but we also have a lot in common and I know I can't leave him to fall into the darkness trying to drag him down. "QUOLL. DAMN YOU DON'T YOU DARE DIE ON ME! YOU STILL OWE ME!" 

Distance is meaningless. The fact that we are yards apart equally so. Our minds are linked and I have a feeling we could be on opposite sides of the planet and still be able to reach each other. My Ruby Eyes are flaring as I grasp at him, drag at him, force him back out of the quagmire into which he's descending. 

Somehow I do it. Somehow, exhausted nearly to the point of blacking out, I bring him – and Karik – back. As I feel his Eyes fade into nothing, as our link drops into stillness, I know he's fainted. 

QUOLL:   
The sound of a motor hums in my ears, echoing the ache in my head. I'm sitting, strapped down and slumped against something hard and rough. There's something cold and wet on my forehead and I have a feeling that we're moving. _We?_ Yet I know I'm not alone and I know who is with me. Before I can say his name, though, Kurapika says, "We're about to land, Quoll. How do you feel?" 

"Do you really, really need an answer?" I ask, lifting my hand to the wet cloth on my forehead and lifting it so I can look at him. He's seated beside me, looking concerned. 

"You feel, I'd say, like you've been run over by a herd of elephants and like your eyes have had acid poured in them. Been there. Done that." He hands me a bottle of water and I sip at it gratefully. "The Kal say that you mustn't come back until you're trained. Kirak asked that I apologize to you, that he was foolish to believe you were able to do what he thought you could. He didn't think someone could survive the Opal Eyes to your age without being better trained in their use." 

I pull myself upright. "Exactly how am I supposed to train? If they're the only ones like you and I I assume they're somehow related to the Kurota?" Pausing I add, a bit querulously, "And what do you mean, _Opal_ Eye?" 

"You'll have to train with me. Our link will keep you from hurting me and you'll learn to block out other minds when you use the Eyes. Yes, they _are_ related, though very distantly." His eyes turn wistful. "Apparently there was a schism. My ancestors followed a prophecy that said a half-blood would destroy the clan. Theirs felt that following prophecy without better understanding risked ending up fulfilling it and they split up." 

Forcing back the pain of memories, I shake my head. "Know about the prophecy." 

"I won't say anymore about it, then. You need to get past this, but we'll work on it later." Kurapika eyes me. "As for the Opal Eye. That's what they call the form that you have. Both started as a defense mechanism but the Opal Eye operates by reflecting whatever wants to harm it, where the Ruby projects the owner's feelings towards someone." He looks chagrined and adds. "The scolding I got for considering your Eye as being the lesser because you're mixed blood was memorable." 

I blink at him. "But" 

"It isn't because you're mixed blood that you can't control it. It's because you weren't bloody well taught to control it right." Kurapika sighs. "Not your fault. Not mine. We'll talk about that later, once we've finished what we're doing at Comet Star City." 

It occurs to me that the shift in his feelings towards me has gone further than I would have ever expected. Which is, I realize, a relief. I don't really want him as an enemy. I'm not sure why – it's certainly never bothered me when someone has hated me before – but somehow there's something different here. A kinship between the two of us that is barely acknowledged and definitely there. "All right," I agree. 

"Speaking of which," the pilot calls back at me. "We shall arrive at the nearest airport in ten minutes." 

"Better raise your tray, extinguish all cigarettes and buckle up," Kurapika says. 

Intensely amused, I grin at him. "You _have_ been hanging around me too long." 

KURAPIKA:   
For a change, our trip has nothing further blocking our way. No terrorists trying to take over the plane. No Mafia chasing us down and trying to kill us. No police offering us tickets. No bandits. Just a long, dull, flight with several pauses for refueling and – at last – a landing on a small seldom used field, followed by a drive through broken and desolate countryside. 

"We'll have to walk the rest of the way. There's no real roads into the city," Quoll tells me, stopping the car at the side of the road and getting out. 

There's a hot, dry wind blowing around me. Desert air, but with a peculiar note to its scent that I can't identify and don't care much for. I climb out of the car, however and wait for Quoll to do his little trick with it. "How far?" 

"Just over that hill." Quoll raises his head, glancing around as if looking for something. He raises his hand and his fingers flash in a series of gestures. "Ready?" 

"Watchers?" I guess and he nods as I walk up the hill beside him. "I see a light flashing up that way." 

"Mmmm," he agrees. "They're passing the word that we're entering the city. Paranoia doesn't necessarily mean that no one's out to get you." 

"Hmph," I respond. "And someone being out to get you doesn't mean you're not paranoid." He grins at my response and I continue, "What is that odor?" It's getting stronger and nastier. I've smelled similar before, but never so strong and my memory is coming up blank. 

"Odor? I'm afraid I Oh Sorry, Kurapika. I'm so used to it I just blanked it out. Don't worry. You'll almost forget it's there after a while." Quoll pauses at the top of the rise and I step up beside him and stare, appalled at the scene beyond. 

It's a city, yes. A city of tents and broken buildings. A city shattered. As if some giant had struck it with their fist. Smoke rises from hundreds of spots and the odor – an effluvia that mixes the scent of food with sewage, the scent of machines with far too many people in one place – flows past me, driven by the hot wind. 

That alone isn't the worst of it, though. I see the people. Men and women and children. Mostly dressed in rags. Neat, carefully mended, but still rags. These are people who take care of themselves. People with nearly nothing who throw away nothing and use what others throw away until it can't be used anymore. People who stick together because the rest of the world has thrown them away. The unwanted. The despised. The populace of Comet Star City. The birthplace of the Genei Ryodan. 

"Welcome to Comet Star City. It's not much, but we like to call it home," Quoll says gently, gazing off into the distance. "Just our little piece of Hell on Earth." 

To Be Continued. 

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES: 

Yare yare What a long wait to get this done. I can't even complain a lack of muse. Too _much_ muse in fact. Stories that had been bouncing around on my back burner all decided at once to demand attention (pauses to smack Creed and Heiji around for making Kosagi write about them instead of working on this) and – well – I was sort of at a loss to work out what could make this episode interesting enough to make the trip to Comet Star City worth reading. Hopefully you'll have found the above sufficiently worth the wait. It's certainly the longest segment I've written for this story. 

The question about whether the gypsies were related to the Kurota made me wonder if I could use that concept. There've been a lot of stories out there where Kurapika finds out he isn't alone, so I had to angst over that decision as well. Suffice to say that while they are very similar, their abilities aren't at the same level. 

Oh, and Karik looks like Patch from Surf Ninjas. There's just something about Ernie Reyes Sr. that I find way cool. 

Masami: I really wish Togashi-san would get back to the Genei Ryodan story in the current manga. I just have a feeling that he meant something important with the first arc and I hate having to wait past all the training stuff, no matter how much more interesting it is once toriyama's world translates it. 

LynLyn: Yeah, it isn't easy ironing out a friendship between two such people. I've been trying to show – as I go – just how diametrically opposed they are. Devil and Angel, City and Forest and so on.//Kurapika desperately needs a sense of humor, in my opinion. He takes things so blasted solemnly that I almost feel like it's Quoll who's the kid, instead of Kura.//The reason Quoll wanted Kurapika to use the eyes was only as a kind of quick warning that there was trouble. That and he knew there was a mild telepathic component to the ability.//I think I've answered your question about the Alternative Transportation Specialists (Quoll wishes me to tell you "Nice Phrase", btw.)//Thanks for the info on the age difference. I think I can still work my idea in, though I sorta thought Kurapika was a bit older. I'm thinking it doesn't matter, though.//The Wife (hah!) made pretty much the usual deaththreats. I'm too old and cynical to find more than mild amusement in it and don't have the energy to play, so I figured it wasn't worth my time trying to push her into further sillyness. I'm glad it never bothered you, though. 

Shinomori No Kami Daiji: Relationships of any sort aren't easy to work through so I'm glad it looks like they're progressing at a reasonable speed.//I dunno that _you_ could manage to sneak up on Quoll asleep. It's only because he considers Kurapika someone he trusts (Quoll: I _never_ admitted anything of the I mean I never said that!) that he didn't wake up until the police showed.//Sleep deprivation isn't the half of it. grin 

Kasugai gummie: Thanks! I approve very much of Kurapika and Quoll fics, as long as the characters stay _in_ character. One of the reasons I'm writing this and – hoping very much – trying to stay in character myself. Or at least not so out of character that I end up flamed by more than that silly Wife.//Oh, I definitely like Restraining Order. 

Yukitsu: Gosh. I hope the problem with uploading chapters goes away. You're doing a nice job with "Blood of Confusion", btw. (Note to self, remember to review eh heh.)//I hope you'll like the concept I do go with. It won't be obvious for a bit, though. Still have some threads to lay down to foreshadow the conclusion before I reveal it.//Hope your friends are getting past their problems. It's always hard to watch, especially if it's something you can't help them through.//Yes, write more and make that silly woman flail more. Though I think she may be gone. Haven't seen a peep out of her for a while. 

Purple Hotagi: Hey, new reader! Coolness.//Quoll wants me to note that considering that Kurapika hadn't exactly told him his dreams, it wasn't like he could even guess that their dreams were the same. I think he's protesting too much, myself.//The 'C' titles may end up biting me in the rear, I agree. I hope not. 

Next Episode: We'll be seeing a lot of what's going on in Star City and maybe learn more about what the other members of the Ryodan are up to. Not to mention learning a bit more about the destruction of the Kurota and Quoll's origins. 


	12. City

An Amusing Interlude: Part 12: City: In which Kurapika and Quoll take a break.  
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

* * *

KURAPKIKA:   
"Well, well. Stranger in these parts, aren't ya, pretty boy?" 

I take a step backwards, forced further into the blind alley by the group of young men who've half surrounded me. "Leave me alone," I tell them, forcing my tone under control. "Or you'll regret it." 

The leader grins broadly. "Will we? Folk here don't care what happens t'strangers." He moves closer, leering, hand reaching out towards me and I prepare to move. "We got it made here. They leave us alone and we leave them alone." 

A soft cough behind the group interrupts the festivities. "On the contrary, the good folk of the City have the sense not to interfere with outlanders _unless_ necessary." Quoll wanders onto the scene, practically drifting like a bit of milkweed on a breeze, dark hair hanging loose over the headband he wears to conceal his tattoo. His hands are stuffed into his pockets and his eyes are amused as he glances around the alley way. "However, we take it amiss when outlanders cause trouble that reflects back upon us." 

I keep my eyes on the leader, considering my next move and evade when one of the toughs grab for my arm. The piece of chain I was using – in place of my _nen_ created ones – whips out, bashing him upside the head and sending him sprawling. The others react as I hope, turning to see what I'm doing, giving Quoll a chance to pull out his Skill Book and make his move. Only their leader keeps his eyes on my companion and he doesn't move fast enough to avoid the pile of garbage Quoll transfers from behind me and on top of the gang. 

Swinging my chain again, I wallop another gang member as he struggles back to his feet. At the same time Quoll is quietly using his _benz_ knife and quick dodges and thrusts to handle another. Within minutes the gang is down and unconscious. 

Quoll and I look at each other and if our satisfied expressions mirror each other, it's only natural. This gang had been causing trouble for weeks before our arrival. Trouble that had risked bringing the authorities into Star City. Moreover, the leader had exaggerated a trifle when he'd suggested that he'd been leaving the inhabitants of this place alone. Admittedly it had been relatively minor mischief compared to what they'd been doing to the strangers they'd captured outside the City and dragged in to 'play' with, but even minor mischief was something these close-knit and careful people wouldn't endure long. 

Before Quoll can skirt the mound of garbage and refuse – some of it human – a small group of men and women enter the alley and begin doing what they do best. Scavenge. One glances at him and nods. "Dodake, Dancho. Thee und tha tohto, dodake." Quoll nods briefly in return and cocks his head towards the exit, an obvious suggestion that he and I take our leave. 

QUOLL:   
"What will happen to them?" 

I glance sideways at my companion as we pass a market stall, my hand automatically going out to slip an apple into my pocket. He glares at me and I shrug, tossing a coin onto the table as we move on. It can be trying, sometimes, traveling with someone as moralistic as Kurapika. Fun too, but someday I'm going to have to get him to understand that I _am_ a thief after all. 

Before Kurapika can ask again, I tell him, "Probably something embarrassing, but not fatal. It's really not a good idea for those in the City to do anything harmful to outsiders. We live on sufferance, after all." If I formed the Genei Ryodan for any reason it was to act as a kind of protection against the outside. The people of the City – in general – preferred to keep their heads low and not make waves, even when they were being oppressed or misused. "The trouble those _ahou_ caused wasn't enough to justify the risks of actually killing them." 

Kurapika nods consideringly as I pause to buy some food, putting the wilted vegetables into the sack I'd found earlier and stuffed into a pocket. You never know when something like that can come in handy. "Why did that man call me your little brother?" he asks after another few minutes. 

I shrug. In the last few days I'd been teaching Kurapika the rudiments of Star City's main dialect and though I hadn't gotten to the point of familial relationships, my companion had a way of picking up language details as he went. No doubt he'd learned it from someone we'd met on the way. "I've passed the word you're under my protection. Perhaps that's why." To be honest, I'm not sure what the reasoning is and it puzzles me. Not that I particularly mind. "Does it bother you? I can." 

"No. It's okay. Just strange. I always wanted a big brother when I was a kid," Kurapika answers quietly. "You're not quite what I would have asked for, but it doesn't bother me either." He doesn't add that it certainly would have two weeks ago, but the last two weeks have shifted alliance pretty thoroughly. His blue eyes glance around us, eying the stalls and eateries that line the edge of the street. "Anyway, how much longer will it be before we get to that place we were going to?" 

I continue walking, "Not far. We'll be there before nightfall. I'd give you directions, but I'd rather not risk someone overhearing me." Scanning the street I note that they've made some changes. Several stalls that had been here two months ago are gone. Maryse's husband must have finally drunk up all her profits and Shofa had obviously been close to a breakdown after his children had disappeared. The other stalls look pretty much the same and it is with some relief that I finally spot the one I'm looking for. "First, though, we need to handle another problem." 

Kurapika raises a brow and I add, "Unless, of course, you want to have our friends from a week back finding us again already." 

KURAPIKA:   
I follow Quoll into the tent and sneeze several times as the incense fills my nostrils. Then I look around as my companion murmurs "Gedzuntheit." Though the tent is rather large – especially in this place of impoverished thrift – the interior is close and tight, made so by the sheer number of things that fill it. Bottles here, emptied and flattened out soda cans there. Boxes upon boxes, each labeled in the Star City alphabet. A junk store, but one so carefully laid out that despite the sheer amount of things I had a feeling it would be easy to find exactly what was needed. The lighting is surprisingly bright, sunlight streaming in from a series of openings in the roof. 

"_Wilcommen. Entre ni._" The voice is elderly and rough. 

"My companion does not speak our language well, Johan." Quoll makes his way through the maze of stuff, pausing a moment to examine a pile of books. "Oh, I'm glad to see you found this. I meant to ask you about it again." 

I frown at my companion. "Is this really the time for browsing?" Honestly, get the man anywhere near a book and he forgets what he's doing. 

A deep, rich, chuckle comes from behind a low stack of fabric. "He has always been that way, even as a boy." A thin fragile looking hand, wrinkled and pale beneath a constellation of age spots grasps a piece of polished wood and assists its owner in rising. "Welcome, young sir. Welcome home, boy." 

I am instantly reminded of one of my village elders, though he doesn't look particularly like them, except in age. Bald, but for a top knot of pure white hair bound by a piece of metal that I rather suspect of having once been a bottle cap ring. Sunken cheeks and pale watery eyes that peer at the two of us over a pair of thick spectacles. He wears a T-shirt that proclaims him a "foxy lady" and a pair of jeans several times too big for his skinny legs. The latter are tied around his waist with a piece of rope and his bare, broad feet stick out from under the faded blue fabric, gnarled toes curled against the fabric of the felted carpet. 

"It's good to see you too, Johan." Quoll moves out of the way and lets his friend take a seat on one of the steadier piles of junk. "This is Kurapika. He is Kurota." 

The pale eyes turn to look me over consideringly. "One who has come to terms, it seems. Or he would not be so calm at your side. Nor would you have brought him here otherwise." He bows his head slightly to me. "Well enough. Yet you have not come here merely to socialize, nor to look for a book that you have only minor interest in. What need have you? Or is it Kurapika whose needs must be fulfilled?" 

I glance at Quoll, waiting for him to answer. I can guess at his plan, if not at the specifics and rather suspect that much of his silence has been due to the lack of privacy we've had in the last few days. There were, quite simply, too many people around to discuss anything. 

"We need a shield. Something to conceal us from someone searching for our specific _nen_. Can it be done?" 

The old man frowns. "It will cost. To find someone with the right _nen_ will take time and" 

With a chuckle, Quoll finishes, "time is money." 

QUOLL:   
I open my _zetsu_ sense as wide as possible, making certain the only life forms in the area are myself, Kurapika and the various wee beasties that live throughout the ruins of the city. Beside me, I can feel Kurapika doing the same and we nod at each other briefly before I push through an opening in the fallen masonry that I know doesn't look wide enough to permit someone passage. "We'll have to crawl," I say a minute later, dropping to my knees in front of the passage. 

"I hope this isn't the only way in or out of the place," Kurapika mutters. "I'd hate to get stuck here if we had to run." He pulls off his outer tunic and folds it up, putting it away in his bag. 

Raising a brow I ask, "What do you _think_?" 

He's silent a moment as we work our way past several sharp rocks and into the passage itself, then says. "Good." 

The rest of our crawl we're too busy trying to get through without hurting ourselves, so conversation is limited to my warning him of hidden dangers. At last, however, we come out into a brightly lit open area. Sunlight streams through the wreckage of the building surrounding us, casting deep shadows and almost blinding after the darkness of the passageway. 

"This used to be a shopping complex, before the city was destroyed in the earthquake." I gesture at the shattered roof, "I think this was the food court." 

Kurapika gazes around, looking at the broken signs and nods agreement as I walk up a set of makeshift stairs. There used to be a second level to the mall, but most of it had been ruined. Only one shop had managed to remain – mostly – undamaged and I'd immediately claimed it for my own when I'd found it. Passing under the sign saying "" I push back the cloth covering the doorway, then the other draperies over what had once been glassed in windows showing the shop's merchandise. 

"Quoll. I don't think you have enough books." Kurapika stands at the entrance and stares into the room with a raised and sardonic brow. His eyes move from shelf to shelf as he examines their contents with a mildly amused expression. Paperbacks, hardbacks, every book I've been able to get my hands on, all carefully shelved. Stacks upon stacks in shelves so tall that you need a ladder to reach the higher ones. In the darkness, the colored spines of the paperbacks are muted, but it's still possible to see just how big the room is and just how many books it contains. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, though. Where _else_ would you hide out but in an abandoned bookstore?" 

I grin at him. "I'd have more books if someone hadn't left them behind two weeks ago," I point out, leading the way into the back rooms of the shop, where there was a makeshift kitchen and sleeping area. As I enter, I start lighting the lamps, covering them quickly to keep the breeze that flows through the building from blowing out the flame. There are no windows in this part of the building, but there are huge cracks everywhere. 

"I'd have been there all night." Kurapika's tone is ironic as he helps me light the room and brushes dust off a chair so he can sit down. I haven't been in the place for a month, more than enough time to allow far too much to collect. "So, what now?" 

"We'll have to wait for Johan to find a _nen_ user to help us with our one problem. In the meantime, though." I go to a cabinet and open it, fighting down the surge of panic that doing so always creates in me. Inside are cylinder after cylinder of scrolls. The accumulated knowledge of Kurapika's tribe, all carefully noted down and all nearly impossible for me to read without risking awakening things I can't control. "I'll fix supper," I tell Kurapika and can hear the tense note in my voice as I speak. "The notebooks on the bottom shelf contain the other information you wanted." 

Kurapika gazes at the scrolls and notebooks for a long moment, then searches around the room for a quiet corner, pushing his chair over. "All right," he agrees. "Let me know when it's ready." 

KURAPIKA:   
Quoll spins and rolls under my attack as the chain in my hand whips around the piece of wood he's found to defend himself. I do a spinning kick that narrowly misses his chin while I tug his weapon free of his hands. His hand comes up, jarring my wrist and knocking me sideways. _Damn, he's fast._

An opening presents itself but I know him too well to trust such an obvious chance. I feint, pretending to be taken in, then corkscrew downwards, intending to dodge below the only defense he could offer such a move and find myself being grabbed by the ankle and sent sprawling. 

My chain whips around his wrist though, more by chance than actual intent, and we end up in a heap at the foot of the wreckage, bruised and aching. _At least_ I_ am._

"Ow." Quoll's voice confirms that he took a fair amount of abuse from our tumble as well. "Good save." 

"Not really," I disagree. "The chain got you by accident." 

With a laugh, Quoll rolls to his feet and brushes himself off. "And since when was chance _not_ a valid part of fighting. Never underestimate the value of luck, both good and bad." 

I'm sour as I rise and wrap my chain around my waist. "As long as you don't depend on it." I look at him, seeing the pure enjoyment in his eyes. He's having entirely too much fun. _Like a big kid._ Sometimes I have to wonder which of us is really the older. I wonder too, considering the kind of life he's led, how he can possibly take life in stride so easily. 

Quoll climbs up to where we left our lunch and gets a bottle of water, tossing it to me after taking a large gulp. "Feeling better now?" he asks. I'd needed this more than he had, really, having spent the last three days poring over the oldest of my people's texts and those infernal notebooks. I'd been rather relieved when he'd proposed a workout. 

I nod, sipping thoughtfully at my water. "I only wish I could talk to you about what I found," I say finally. Most of the scrolls simply recorded important events, births, deaths, marriages and the like. A goodly number, however, detailed some of my people's philosophies. The precepts I'd been raised on. Precepts that didn't sit well with what had happened to Quoll and his Spider when they'd come to visit. 

Only there was one thread throughout the texts that made the Elders' reaction understandable. A prophecy by one whose prophecies had seldom failed. A promise that a half-blood would be the end of the Kurota clan. I remembered old Marva's explanation of the schism between her people and mine. The fears that had forced my ancestors to hide. 

Nothing I'd found in my people's texts, however, really answered the question of who and what Quoll was and I'd finally set them aside in favor of the notebooks. Ream upon ream of computer printouts, written in a more modern language and printed much more clearly. Even so, it was taking me much longer to decipher what they were saying. I wipe sweat from my face, watching Quoll's face and add, "I'm beginning to think science is a language in and of itself." 

Quoll chuckles. "Well, it is, really. There's a story where people learn to translate a dead alien race's texts using their science journals." At my expression, he grins. "Sorry. I suppose you aren't very interested in talking literature." Climbing down, he adds, "But I can talk to you about the printouts now that we're here. It's the scrolls I can't handle. The notebooks are a bit easier. They're just dry facts – they don't feel like people to me. Not the way the scrolls do." 

From the way his voice shakes I can see that those scrolls really do give him a lot of trouble and I wonder why he keeps them. At my frown he seems to guess the question and adds, "I keep hoping to find a way to clear out what's stuck in here." He points at his forehead and gives me a rueful look. 

I nod and quickly shift subject back to the notebooks. Not because I don't want to talk about his problem but because I don't have a solution and – more importantly – because we're treading a minefield every time we do. The one thing I don't want to do is set him off until he's trained to deal with his ability. Training I can't give him until we've found a way to protect ourselves from our enemies. "All right, I think I understand that there was some sort of breeding program going on. What I don't understand is why." 

Quoll hands me a sandwich and sits down on a piece of broken wall, gazing consideringly off at nothing. "What is the purpose of any breeding program?" he asks. "Improvement of the species." 

"Oh yeah?" I shake my head. "What kind of improvement of the species is something that goes berserk everytime it uses its ability?" I'm not sure why I said that. Somehow the whole thing seems an insult, both to my people and to whomever else was used to create Quoll. _Not to mention the twelve other 'samples' they bred._

A wry smile crosses Quoll's face. "Still some bugs in the system, I guess." He shrugs and bites into his lunch, chewing thoughtfully. "It's not like I defend what they were doing. I certainly would be much happier without their little 'improvements'. On the other hand, it's fairly certain I wouldn't exist if they hadn't been fooling around, so I can't be entirely ungrateful. I'm rather attached to being alive, after all." 

I can't help but raise a brow and give him a disbelieving look. "You certainly didn't seem to value your life a month ago." It's hard to reconcile his statement with the calm with which he faced death. _Did he really know I wouldn't kill him? Or just believe it so firmly that he couldn't be scared?_

Quoll's gaze meets mine, dark eyes level and completely serious in a way that I seldom see from him these days. "It's precisely because I value my life that I was ready to give it up," he tells me. "If my life had no value it would have scarcely been much of an exchange for my Spiders, now would it?" 

His calm statement shakes me entirely, particularly since I realize that – on some subconscious level – that I'd known that to be the case already. My mind flashes back to that night, to my berserk rage and the deep understanding that he was sacrificing himself for his friends. _He knew. He meant me to take him and I knew it. Knew it and hated him for it._ If it hadn't been for Leorio, if not for the fact that my own friends meant more to me than even my vengeance, I would have become something utterly repugnant, even to myself. Would have become something far worse than the Spider. 

My expression must show my thoughts, for Quoll continues, "Kurapika. It didn't happen. You stepped back from that edge. It's over and it's done." 

Before I can open my mouth to speak, another voice interrupts. "_Over and done? The _hell_ it is!_" 

We turn and look up at the man standing amid the wreckage across from us. Medium height, with a carefully trimmed goatee and mustache. He wears a simple robe and carries a katana. As I stare blankly at him, Quoll rises and moves to stand between the two of us. "Nobunaga." 

To Be Continued

* * *

(Bows deeply and apologetically) The dog ate my homework er I mean I came over all dead. 

More specifically, September has been the month of the Cold That Will Not Die. This has resulted in a complete lack of inspiration that has ensured I can only write really angsty stuff. (Never let a partially lobotomized psycho into your cast of characters unless you enjoy the havoc he'll create.) In any case, I finally managed to move the plot forward – more talking heads this time – and next episode should (I hope hope hope) be coming out much sooner. (winces). 

Anyway 

XD: The art is Grand Grand Grand. It catches Quoll and Kurapika's personalities so beautifully. I'd like to set up an area on my website to put it, if you wouldn't mind? 

Yukitsu: Run on sentences are probably one of my worst writing habits. Except if I don't do them that way I end up with sentence fragments. I just can't win. Re: Sucking eggs. This may be a purely western proverb. It's saying don't tell someone how to do what they already know how to do. (Don't ask me exactly how the phrase came about, though. No clue.) 

Shinomori: I'm not sure if Quoll's so much gone soft as become deeply stressed by the events of the last two weeks. He's gone from being under Kurapika's geas, and Kurapika's enemy, to finding himself and Kurapika becoming friends. He's been forced to remember really traumatic stuff and had his mind and Kurapika's entangled up with each other and he's just discovered that he isn't even quite what he thought he was. I hope to show him rebalancing in the next episode. 

Lynlyn: The link _is_ generally good for the two of them but there are still those dark nasty little feelings they have over their pasts that come out when they're dreaming. It creates a feedback effect that means they're not going to be able to sleep at the same time without risking hurting each other. The Kal, having sensitives about, were able to pick up on that and Marva simply didn't want Quoll and Kurapika's issues to affect her clan.//See my comment to Yukitsu about the sucking eggs. I'm just going to have to remember that some proverbs aren't readily recognizable on an international level.//I was soooo tempted to find a way to include the Wife in the story somehow, but decided that it wouldn't be worth the trouble. I'm rather glad to see she's gone, though. 

Shaoli: I'll probably have an explanation for Ubo's apparent ignorance of what happened to the Kurota in the next episode, so stay tuned. As for why Quoll and the others can kill outsiders – the point I got from his statement is that it's much easier to kill someone you don't know and have no emotional ties with than someone you know. A point I've been trying to keep in the story, in fact, is that the Spider is tied together by bonds that are exceedingly important to all of them.//Don't worry about how long you keep the fic in your favorites. I don't often bother looking at that because while I want people to enjoy the work, I want to write without worrying over whether or not they do. 

Sylphmuse: Thanks! I explained my use of Quoll a while back. I'll note too, that it seems to be considered a valid spelling on some sites, so it was just a matter of choosing something that worked for me. Anyway, I hope to be updating again sometime in November. 


	13. Catastrophe

An Amusing Interlude: Part 13: Catastrophe: In which we learn that some people just don't give up.  
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

* * *

QUOLL:   
I gaze up mildly at Nobunaga as he glares past me at Kurapika. If looks could kill, I have a feeling both of us would be dead now. As it is, the only thing that's stopping him from attacking out of hand is the fact that I'm standing in his way. "It's good to see you." 

"Never mind that! What's _he_ doing here?" 

Sighing, I glance back at Kurapika. My companion has a wary, ready look that says he fully expects to be attacked. It's a reasonable expectation – Nobunaga is about the angriest I've ever seen him. Small wonder, Ubogin was his best friend, after all. The rage in his face tells me that I'm going to have a hard time defusing the situation. 

"He's here," I tell Nobunaga, "because the two of us have come to terms." 

"The hell with that! HE KILLED UBO!" 

I can practically taste Kurapika's response. Guilt, mixed with anger, mixed with other darker emotions. He's fighting back his own anger and need for revenge. Coming to terms with me doesn't mean he doesn't still feel the anguish of losing his family or the longing to beat their killers straight down to the hell a part of him feels they belong. 

Choosing my words carefully, I gaze at Nobunaga levelly. "Yes. And _we_ killed his entire family. All things considered, perhaps it's best we call it even." 

Nobunaga leaps down and sideways, swords drawn, moving in for the attack. I move in turn, putting myself in his way again. "Are you questioning my judgment?" I ask as his weapons cut through the air. 

KURAPIKA:   
For the first time I see Quoll as something other than the humorous, off-beat and downright silly creature he's come to appear to me. I realize as he speaks and moves, that while those things are very much part of who Quoll is, they don't define him. _No one is of a piece_, I remember him saying. The realization cuts through my mixed emotions, leaving me watching him, stunned at the transformation. 

The man blocking Nobunaga's attack is the Genei Ryodan's Danchou. Calm, calculating and bloody dangerous. If Nobunaga had sense, he'd back off immediately. I can see, though, that his anger is stronger than his sense for the moment. His attack shows it, being a thing more of strength than judgment. As his swords come down, Quoll's hand goes out and he dodges sideways, twisting as he grasps Nobunaga's wrist. 

One sword falls from Nobunaga's hand to Quoll's and as Nobunaga spins around, attempting to recover, attempting to reach me, Quoll comes up behind him. The blade in his hand flashes in the sunlight as he places it at Nobunaga's throat. "Who is Danchou here?" Quoll's voice is all the more terrifying for the utter calm and quiet with which he asks the question. If he is angry, he's covering it well. _He isn't though. He's not even using Ten to control himself. _

Nobunaga stops dead. "You are." The admission is made begrudgingly, but it's clear he has suddenly realized what he's doing. 

"I seem to recall already discussing this matter. The Ryodan are not simply about revenge. Ubo took his risks and knew he might die for them. If you cannot accept my ruling, then it's time for us to part ways. Shall I remove your spider for you? Or are you still one of us?" 

A long moment of silence follows before Nobunaga shakes his head. "I'm still a Spider," he whispers. 

Quoll steps back and flips the sword in his hand, returning it. "Then you accept my judgment." It's not a question. As Nobunaga nods, Quoll continues, "Settle it as if he were one of us." 

QUOLL:   
I'm getting two of the strangest looks from Nobunaga and Kurapika. Neither of them had expected that and I have to fight back a little grin. The trouble with being Danchou is that one's sense of humor has to be kept under control, and that means I can't just break into relieved laughter. I didn't want to fight Nobunaga if I didn't have to. Some fights you can't win even when you do. 

Noting that Nobunaga has – almost automatically – pulled out a coin from a pocket, I give Kurapika an inquisitive look. "You win the toss, he apologizes to you for his part in you know. He wins, you apologize for Ubo." 

Kurapika's expression says that I'm going to end up paying for my sense of humor, but his only comment is, "I'm not a Spider. Why should I follow your rules?" 

Before Nobunaga can interject anything, I shrug. "Because it simplifies matters? I'm not asking you to join us. I understand your reservations regarding that step. On the other hand, do you really want to fight him hand to hand? I suspect you'd win, especially considering that _somebody_ seems to be thinking with his swords instead of his brain, but why put yourself at risk?" I ignore the little indignant noise Nobunaga makes as I gaze seriously at Kurapika. 

After a moment's hesitation Kurapika nods. "All right. Tails, then." 

Nobunaga flips the coin in the air and grabs it, slapping it onto the back of his hand. "Tails," he sighs, tone half disappointed. "Okay. I apologize." If his tone doesn't sound very apologetic, I hope that Kurapika will accept it and understand that – at least for Nobunaga – the matter is settled. 

Rather to my surprise, Kurapika looks embarrassed. "I I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to kill him, to be honest. Or I did, but not not the way I did." I nearly interrupt, tell him that his words aren't necessary, that the matter is closed and over, but I realize that – for Kurapika – it isn't. "I didn't know you Spiders then. Still don't really understand you, but I especially didn't know you'd die before revealing your secrets. Ubo Pakunoda I'd have killed them in a fair fight. I never thought they'd defy the Judgment." 

"We're just a slimy bunch of thieves, with no honor or principles." Nobunaga's sour words cause Kurapika to wince and I have to fight back a sharp surge of pain as memories try to work their way past the blocks I've placed on them. 

"What else was I supposed to think?" Kurapika shoots a look at me and something in my expression must make him realize what this is doing to me. "Look, I _am_ sorry. Sorry for what happened and sorry for my part in it." 

I take a deep breath. "Kurapika, Nobunaga, enough. Both of you. Apologies have been made. Consider the matter settled." I look at Nobunaga. "Now that Pakunoda is gone, the memories she took from you should be back. Would you tell Kurapika what happened to his people's eyes?" Those memories are easier to deal with than what preceded them. I hadn't actually been involved, after all. 

Nobunaga's eyes widen. "But you You remember?" 

"Pakunoda didn't touch my memories, Nobunaga. It was too risky. Her death would have destroyed my mind." I shake my head, using _ten_ to control myself and my Eyes. "I won't stay to listen. That's more than I think I can manage." It's only been a week since Kurapika and I had our little walk down memory lane and I have to work harder than usual to keep those other thoughts from intruding. "I'll be in my rooms. Come up when you're done." 

KURAPIKA:   
I watch Quoll go with a frown. His movements are perfectly regular and easy, but I can tell he's deeply shaken, that the entire situation is putting a strain on him. He's strong, stronger than I am in some ways, but he's had so _many_ upsets that I'm not really surprised that he's still having difficulties. He needs time to rest and he's not getting it. _It's just been one thing after another, damnit! _

Nobunaga coughs. "I guess I should start with saying that even if we _were_ the slimy bunch of thieves without honor or principles that you thought we were, Ubo wouldn't have been able to tell you what you wanted to know." 

I stare at him. "He he was already under a judgment I mean a geas?" I could see how that would have put him in an impossible position. Talk and die for talking. Refuse to talk and die for that. 

Nobunaga shakes his head. "No. We don't do that to each other. Frankly, I hadn't heard of such a thing as your judgment thingie until you used it on that slimeball Hisoka and kept him from warning us." At my stare he blinks at me. "You mean you didn't?" 

I shake my head. "He told me what he could because he wanted a chance at Quoll." 

Nobunaga snarls a few unpleasant things under his breath. "He's Danchou's meat or I'd." With a sigh, he shrugs. "Never mind that. Pakunoda used her ability to wipe memories to clear out what happened. Ubo knew – in general – that we'd fought and killed the Kurota. We all remember that much. But the specifics were wiped. We do that for all our jobs so we can't betray Ryodan secrets. Danchou and Shizuku's the only ones who don't get it done and that's because he _needs_ to remember and she can't." 

As I raise a brow, Nobunaga shrugs. "Danchou's fault. Her mind got messed up by his Eyes when we were fighting your people." 

I remember now, he'd linked up with the ones helping him escape. The one had died and the other, Shizuku, must have taken the backlash. Nobunaga rolls his eyes. "Frankly, it's a pain. She's just about impossible the way she is now." Going over to a rock, he sits down and starts cleaning his swords. "Anyway. Your people's eyes." 

"Yes," I agree, sitting close, but not too close. "Please. That's the one thing in all this I find hardest to deal with. Why? Why take them." 

"Simple answer," Nobunaga glances up at me. "We didn't." 

QUOLL:   
I don't have to listen to Nobunaga to know what he's telling Kurapika. It's painful to remember, but not as bad as what had preceded it. As I make my way to the kitchen to heat up some tea I recall what I was told – once my tangled and knotted brain had managed to find a way past all the things that had happened to it. How, when I'd been incapacitated, Phinx had thought to go back to the village a few days later. He'd been hoping to find something that could help me. What they found was the houses pillaged and the bodies – still where they were – all missing their eyes. 

_"It had to have happened soon after we left,"_ I remember Phinx telling me when I'd recovered enough to communicate. _"The eyes would have been valueless otherwise."_

_"So the culprits almost had to have shown up within hours of our leaving,"_ I'd answered. Phinx wasn't always the brightest member of the group but he knew I'd want to know who the strangers had been and what they were up to. Using Bonorenolf's tracking ability, combined with what few things Phinx had been able to find at the village, he was able to trace the path the rest of the Kurota belongings had followed. 

I glance sideways at the cabinet where my stash of Kurota scrolls and those notebooks are stored. Phinx and those he'd chosen to go after the strangers had caught up before they'd reached whatever bolt-hole they'd been headed for. My Spider is nothing if not thorough and though they had quite a fight on their hands, they'd won, taking back everything that had been stolen. 

_Kurapika isn't going to like what we did about the eyes,_ I think ruefully. The thing was, to us, the things were just baubles and though we're thieves and murderers, we don't have much use for body parts. Phinx had sent them off to be sold, using the money the way we usually did, to benefit Comet Star City. He'd known better than to get rid of the records though. I would have been furious when I'd recovered. 

The only real mistake Phinx made was not to keep someone alive. Not that I could really blame him. The strangers hadn't been human, products of the same laboratory that had created me, I suspected. They'd been close to impossible to fight, had nearly killed Phinx and his companions. When it comes to a choice between my Spider and getting information, I'll take my Spiders any day. 

The tea kettle hisses, reminding me of the present and I turn to it, only to pause as a sound draws my attention sideways. One of the bookcases in the room is swinging around, revealing the passage behind it. I don't relax as Johan steps into the room. He almost never comes up this way and he certainly wouldn't have done so without warning me. That there seem to be needles poking out from behind his head at intervals only makes my fears more certain. 

As a tiny girl steps into the room behind him, feline ears pointing upwards in an oddly perky fashion, I know there's trouble. "Meow," she says, or rather purrs. "Our masters would like to have a word with you, Number Q013." 

KURAPIKA:   
I can sense it before the explosion even draws our attention upwards. Quoll, suddenly wary, his pulse racing. He's in danger. As I rise to my feet something detonates somewhere inside Quoll's refuge, sending dust, rocks and other debris flying out of the windows. As a ripped up book lands at my feet I stare upwards. 

Nobunaga swears and starts towards the wreckage. That's when the first beast-creature comes flying over the wreckage of the building and at Nobunaga and me. "Don't go in!" I yell at Nobunaga. "Defend yourself first!" 

"But" 

"DAMNIT NOBUNAGA, WOULD HE WANT YOU TO RISK YOUR LIFE IN AN UNSTABLE RUIN?" I swing a _nen-_chain at the first beast-man rushing me. "YOU CAN'T FIGHT IN THERE AND THEY'LL FOLLOW YOU!" 

With an oath that would melt the concrete, Nobunaga turns and begins fighting. As his sword slices through a buzzing insect I cudgel another beast into unconsciousness. Dodge and strike. Strike and dodge. Every sense alive and my sight blurring into red and black as I shift my eyes. This isn't the time to worry about being traced. If I'm right, we've been traced already. The only thing to do is to fight. 

*Slice* Another beast downed by the sword. 

*Ka-thump* I shatter an insect's wing, leaving it twitching on the ground. 

One after another Nobunaga and I handle our attackers. From above I can hear a fight. Quoll's still with us, then. I want nothing more than to get up there, but I don't dare, not until we've gotten our own opponents down. Too much fighting in that shattered room and we could end up brought down entirely. 

At last, however, there are no more beast-creatures. I take several deep breaths, then start up the ruined stairs to the second level. As I do, however, a peculiar buzzing sound starts in my brain. A sensation I'd only felt twice before. Twice was quite enough and I know what it has to be. _No._ I rush towards the entrance and start coughing as the dust hits me. 

I don't have time to cough, though, and I hurry past as quickly as possible. As I enter the room I see a frail thin figure lying on the ground. "Johan!" Nobunaga gasps rushing to his side. As I join the swordsman I feel a surge of horror as I realize what's been done to the back of the old man's head. His skull was cut open, permitting someone to reach the brain inside. Long slender needles are thrust at intervals into the tissue. 

A sound draws my attention sideways and I see the passage that the invaders must have used to get in. Two figures are moving down it. One humanoid, but I recognize it as the same 'android' thing that we've been dealing with. I start to my feet as I realize that it's carrying Quoll over its shoulder. 

Before I can head after Quoll's captor the other figure turns towards me. It has a feminine form, but she's no more human than those that had attacked us earlier. "Meow," she says sweetly. "No time to play. Too bad we don't have your pattern. You'd be a good addition." She lifts her hand and throws something. Quickly, I realize what she's about to do and I dodge backwards, yelling, "NOBUNAGA, GET JOHAN OUT!" He's already moving as I speak. 

As the explosion shatters the passageway between the feline beast and myself, I run after Nobunaga, my chains spinning rapidly behind me, blocking the shrapnel and creating a tunnel of safety behind us. A second later, as the rooms collapse behind us, we land in the open area outside. 

Gasping for air, Nobunaga looks at me. "Danchou?" 

I take several deep breaths and return the look as calmly as I can. "They have him." As his expression turns angry, I continue. "Get your friends. We're going to get him back." 

To Be Continued 

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Heh. A little bit shorter interval between chapters. I don't know how, but this thing keeps growing. My brain hurts, but I know where I'm going, just not how long it's going to take to get there. 

Hikaru: Yeah, 3 months is a long wait. I have a few favorites who take longer, though.//Kurapika x Quoll pairing. Er Next chapter should reveal why I'm _not_ going to. (Apologizes to the yaoi fans and points at LynLyn's fic as an excellent opportunity for good yaoi for Quoll and Kurapika.) 

Sasori, Bleeding Heart12, Hareta: Glad you're glad it's back. 

Shinomori No Kami Daiji: I hope to have the cool competent Quoll in full operation next chapter. A bit of him is showing up here. Of course, part of the problem is that if I show anything of what's going on in his head it gets difficult to stick with just the Cool, Competent Quoll.//I'll be revealing more about Quoll's origin next chapter, since he's being dragged back 'home'.//I think his book fondness is endearing too. There's a lot I like about the character I liked. One of the reasons Togashi's current game of bait and switch is getting annoying. 

XD: I'll have to find time (Time? What's that?) to post your pic and the other. *sigh* I have a life. It's just a bit too full at the moment.//Kurapkika? Ouch. I'll have to remember to catch that. There's some foreshadowing I mean to insert into a finalized version of the story later on, so I'll be doing another full edit then. 

Yukitsu: Yeah, grammar and I aren't always good friends and writing in present tense makes it even harder for me to catch the silly things.//I always felt Kurapika was operating in the classic Hero vs. Villain mode when he's dealing with people who operate in the Shades of Grey Morality mode. The two perspectives don't interact well. Which means Kura-chan is going to have an interesting time of it next episode. 

Flidget: Hey, a name I know from Twig's blog! Nice to see you and thanks! 

Okay, enough for now. It's too close to Christmas out here to do much writing and I have an APA to do, too, so the next chapter probably won't be until January. Hopefully a shorter interval than the last one, though. 


	14. Cooperation

An Amusing Interlude: Part 14: Cooperation – In which Kurapika steps into a role he never planned to take.   
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

* * *

QUOLL:   
_Just give me that old time rock and roll   
That kind of music really sooths my soul   
I reminisce about the days of old   
Just give me that old time rock and roll_

Exactly why Kurapika is singing and dancing in his underwear is a mystery. One that isn't really resolved as he drops the air guitar with a thud and yells at me, ::_CUT IT OUT, QUOLL. We don't have time for this!_:: 

The scene changes and I find myself blinking at Kurapika as he hops down the path towards me. _Oh, that's a cute outfit. What's with the pocket watch?_ His glare is growing more aggravated, even as the music in my head shifts to something about going under. His rabbit ears twitch angrily and I ask, ::_What?_:: 

::_You're dreaming._:: 

::_Oh. I knew that._:: The surroundings flicker again and now we're on stage, dressed in something out of Grimm's fairy tales. Though I'm pretty sure none of their princesses wore spiked bracelets or slit skirts. I'm sort of glad I can't see more of myself right now. The imagination is, apparently, deeply confused. Kurapika, at least, makes a much better looking prince. ::_I'd better wake up then._:: Before things get even _more_ surreal. 

Kurapika shakes his head as the scene changes yet again to a café. He changes clothing to match. Black shirt and pants, a beret and a little mustache and goatee. ::_Not yet. We need to talk. But could you focus? This thing itches._:: He rubs at his chin ruefully. 

Somehow I work myself into a bit more into control. I'm confused, but getting less so. Kurapika is connecting to me through our link. I can't quite remember what has happened, but a vague memory of fighting and being knocked cold is forming. ::_Sorry. This better?_:: We're in the middle of the forest, not my favorite environment, but I think his thoughts have shaped the dream somehow. Oddly, I seem to be dressed like he is, and shorter than I know I ought to be. ::_What's going on?_:: 

::_You've been captured. Nobunaga's getting the rest of the Spider together. As soon as we can, we'll be coming after you. Don't do anything precipitate._:: 

Now memory returns entirely. Captured indeed. I can remember fighting that cat-woman, nearly killing her, only to be incapacitated by her assistants. Two more of those damned androids, using the electronic signal adjusted to my brainwaves, a sound whose frequency leaves me utterly incapable of using my eyes or, for that matter, moving at all. ::_Damn._:: 

::_Indeed._:: Kurapika looks at me. ::_Do you _have_ to look like Never mind. Just stay calm. We _will_ rescue you._:: 

::_No._:: I object. There's no point in putting him and my Spider in danger. ::_It's too risky._:: 

::_I'm not part of your Spider. I don't leave anyone behind. If they won't help me, I'll come by myself. But I _will_ find you._:: His anger is palpable and I realize that there's no point in arguing. A faint smile crosses his face. ::_You're blood and kin, remember? And a friend._:: 

I want to tell him how much that means to me, but I can't. It's too strong an emotion for me to deal with, even here in dreams. At last I nod. ::_If you insist, then. I'll wait for you._:: Until I have a better idea of my situation I don't have much choice. ::_You'll be using our link to find me?_:: 

::_It and my chains. There's no more point in hiding._:: Kurapika sighs. ::_Anything I should know about your people?_:: 

I consider that, hopping up onto a tree branch and perching there and eliciting a strange look from my companion. A voice is speaking in my ear. "Wake up." The dream's going to fade off any minute now, breaking our link. ::_Don't expect Shizuka to remember much more than her name. If you can get Phinx on your side he'll be the one to ask. Tell him Tell him_:: I realize I have no clue _what_ to tell Phinx and smile wryly. ::_Good luck. You're going to need it._:: Something tugs at me and I barely have time to add, ::_Feitan. Get him on your side first_:: Then I'm pulled out of dream and into a nightmare. 

KURAPIKA:   
My eyes snap open and I take several deep breaths. If Quoll were here I'd smack him upside the head for putting me through that. The dancing in underwear wasn't so bad – it wasn't like I lived in a complete vacuum and I knew the movie he'd gotten it from – but for him to take on Jurik's appearance _No. I did that, didn't I?_ I could remember wanting to be home right at that moment and he really wasn't controlling the dream all that much. The fact that I'd seen him as my younger brother simply reflected the way I'd been feeling about him. 

_Quite a change from a week or so ago,_ I thought, sitting up and finding Nobunaga sitting in guard over Johan amid the wreckage. "How is he?" 

Nobunaga looks at me. "Better. Your healing chain did a good job on his skull. He's still sleeping though." The swordsman turns a worried look on the old man. "He's been around for forever. I can't imagine life here without him." 

I nod. I had only known Johan for a brief time, but I'd liked him. "I got the impression he's known Quoll for a while." Sitting across from Nobunaga, I use my healing chain again, searching out infection. 

"Johan raised him," Nobunaga answers, watching my chain as it hovers over the old man's body. "Found him when Quoll was a kid and took him in." He glances at me. "He was a Hunter once. He taught Quoll a lot. Quoll had to find out about Nen, though. He trained that elsewhere." 

I'm not really surprised. It seems to be a Hunter thing, the existence of Nen is kept hidden until a person is considered ready to learn it. I ran into that during my training as well. Putting my chain away after another minute or so, I look at Nobunaga. "The others?" 

"I've called Phinx. He's headed this way. The others too, though it may take a while." At my raised brow, Nobunaga explains. "We'd tried to get on Greed Island by a back door and got kicked out. Whatever that _yarad_ – sorry, that bastard – used scattered us all over the Ajin continent. We decided to meet here and regroup." 

That makes as much sense as everything else that's been going on. I have no idea what's up with Greed Island or why the Ryodan think it's so important, but I also don't care. I want to get Quoll out of his captor's hands, get him back safe and sound. I say as much, "Can whatever you bunch are doing there be put off?" 

Nobunaga looks helplessly at me. "I don't know. It's important. They have our people." At my raised brow, he continues, "Someone kidnapped a bunch of Star City citizens a while back. Shalnark could explain better, but apparently some of them are being used as part of that game." 

"I see." I don't entirely, but figure Shalnark will be able to explain. "All right. When the others get here we can work out what to do next." 

QUOLL: _  
Nightmare isn't quite the right word. A scene from Dante's Inferno._ I'm hanging from chains in a large room. Rusted metal walls surround me and the room is filled with creatures that look like someone chopped up every animal and human they could get their hands on and threw them in a vat, then poured the resulting mess into molds. From somewhere I hear a radio blaring. _That must be where the music was coming from._ Beneath the sound of the music is a rumbling. We're aboard some sort of transport then. Flying, I think, because our movements are too regular for a roadway. 

Standing in front of me is the cat-girl. I smile at her. "Well now. And you would be?" 

"Meow, I don't understand." She stares at me curiously, moving around and plucking lightly at my clothing. "I am of the brood. Meow. What more do I need to be?" 

I raise a brow. "Yourself?" I suggest. A faint frown crosses her pretty features, then she shrugs. Still, something tells me that I've hit on something important. "For instance," I tell her, "My _name_ is Lucifer Quoll. That helps define who I am and what I am."

"You were, meow, designated Q013," she protests. 

"Ahhh, but then I got to decide on a name for myself. A nice perquisite to being a person," I explain, smiling sweetly at her. "If I don't like what I was designated, I can re-designate myself. Can _you_ do that?" 

Her expression is troubled. "Why re-designate? Why Lucifer Quoll, meow?" 

I'm definitely getting to her. "Lucifer was an angel of the Lord, a fallen angel. I live in the hell called Comet Star City, and I have made myself its defender." That's not quite who Lucifer was, actually, the mythologies vary so much from place to place and time to time, but it's enough. _Particularly when you consider how far I've fallen_. "As for Quoll, well that silly number they gave me wasn't really all that pronounceable. So I just turned the three around and made it an 'e'." 

"You, meow, are what you were made to be." I've confused the kitty nicely, I see. She's falling back on what she knows. "A weapon. Meow." 

"A weapon, yes. A weapon that can think for itself and decide who to protect and who to hurt. Can do that, kitten?" 

"Enough, _Q013_." The voice that interrupts is more human than the other voices around me. "Don't confuse the chimera ants." I glance sideways and find myself looking at the smallest and oldest man I've seen in a long while. He looks a lot like Johan, but with more hair and an expression that would be friendly if I couldn't see that – behind it – is cold calculation. "All of you," he orders. "Leave the specimen alone. He's been promised to your Queen _after_ we're done with him. Not before." 

"Meow. Very well." 

_Chimera ants?_ Some vague memory is returning to me. One of the books I'd read about animal species. An insect that would absorb genetic material from the other insects it ate, taking on the appearance and characteristics. _Who the hell's been feeding 'em up to sentience?_ Not that I really needed to ask who would do such a thing. My captors and quite likely the same people who decided it would be a good idea to breed their own pet Ruby Eye Kurota. 

KURAPIKA:   
"The only thing I want from _you_ is for you to break that curse you put on our Danchou!" 

I force myself not to sigh, wondering how Quoll puts up with this bunch. "Curse?" I ask, puzzled. Then I realize, "Oh, you mean the Judgment Chain. Sorry. Can't do that." I'd thought of it as a control device, not a curse, but of course Phinx and the others would see things differently. 

Phinx's face is suffused with a bright magenta. Before he can yell, though, I add, "Because it's already removed." 

Rather surprisingly, I hear Feitan chuckle underneath his face mask. "Told ya," he mutters under his breath at his taller companion. "Pay me." My confusion over the latter remark is resolved as, angry and grumbling mightily, Phinx pulls a handful of change out of his pants pocket and hands it to Feitan. Apparently they'd had some sort of bet on. 

"Then where the hell is he?" Phinx demands, after the formalities are over. "All Nobunaga would say was that you were here, that _he_ didn't want us hurting you and that _you_ would explain everything else." 

I settle onto a nearby bit of broken building, looking down into the courtyard where they're standing. I'm still wary of these two but I don't want them to realize just _how_ wary. "Quoll has been kidnapped," I explain. "By the people involved in his creation, quite probably." At Phinx's startled expression I add, "I know a lot more about the situation now. Enough to be able to accept what happened between the Ryodan and my people as having been out of anyone's control." 

"So we all become buddy buddy and waltz off down lollipop lane together?" Feitan asks, voice quiet and very calm. Too calm, in fact. He's the one I need to watch even more carefully than either Phinx or Nobunaga. Those two will telegraph their thoughts and feelings without much in the way of self control. Feitan will make his decisions without ever letting you see what they are until he's done what has to be done. "Well?" 

I realize I have no really good way of getting these people to listen to me. "Do you want Quoll back?" I ask finally? "I'm about the only one able to find him right now. His Eyes and mine are linked now." 

"How th'hell did _that_ happen?" Nobunaga breaks in. "You didn't say anything about that earlier." 

"For the very good reason that I didn't want to have to explain" I pause to count on my fingers, "nine times, how all of this has come about. You three can explain it to the others when they get here." 

Feitan gives me a considering look and pulls the mask down from his face, surprising both his compatriots. I'm surprised as well. He's younger than I'd expected – or at least looks it. "Strictly speaking, _eight_ times. No point in trying to get Shizuka to understand. She's already forgotten what happened to Pakunoda." Before Phinx can erupt again he adds to the blonde, "Paku made her choice, Phinx. Her life for the Danchou's. Just as I suspect Ubo made _his_ choice back then." The small slender, figure climbs up towards me and stops a few feet away. "Okay, Chain Guy. What happened?" 

It takes me a good twenty minutes to explain the last week or so, minutes that I don't want to waste, but would have to anyway. Johan hasn't woken up yet and I don't want to leave him until I know he's okay. When I'm done, Feitan gives me a long, considering, look. "So. The Danchou's been captured and you think we should all go traipsing off looking for him?" 

"Whether or not you come along, I'm going to find him." 

I didn't think Feitan's eyes could get any narrower. I was wrong. "Why?" his tone is quiet, seemingly casual, but it holds a world of danger nonetheless and I'm reminded of Quoll's last thought before he'd woken. 

"Because I can't leave someone to die that way," I tell him as directly as possible. "Or worse. We don't know what they'll do to him. It isn't right." 

"Right?" Shaking his head, the smaller man puts his hands on his hips. "Your tribe spent centuries hidden away on a remote mountain while the rest of the world just got worse. For what? A bunch of words on a piece of paper. They were ready to kill our Danchou for no better reason than the fact that he'd dared share your blood. The mafia use us as weapons and tools and throw us away when they're done. Or we get taken into a game and get made into toys for other people's amusement. Don't talk to me about 'Right'. The only thing in this world that makes 'right' is _might_!" 

As I open my mouth to protest, he continues, "You know how many do-gooders come in to the City every year? Fifty or so, all expecting to somehow make a change in this place. Most leave within a month, because their idea of a change is to make us over into _their_ image." A mocking look crosses his face. "The few who stay either end up changed themselves or killed when their idea of what's 'right' conflicts with the real world." 

I take a deep breath. "I have no wish to change or use any of you. I've seen what's out there and if you grew up with that I'm sorry. I have no words to express how I feel about it. Other than respect for those of you who can survive in a place like this and still care about each other." 

Feitan spits. "Shyeah. Right." 

"I mean it. Maybe I'm too naïve or too stiff-necked to understand why you think it's necessary to do what you do to survive, but I can see that nothing else is working for you." I shake my head. "I'm not _here_ to change anything. I'm here to understand. I'm here to learn as much as I can about why things are the way they are, or at least one small part of it. I'm naïve, but I'm not so naïve that I can't understand one thing. Things aren't going to change here, not without a major change on both sides of the equation." With a sigh, I continue, "Look. This has nothing to do with the question of rescuing Quoll. If you don't like my first answer, how about because I care what happens to him?" 

There's a long silence and, finally, Feitan says. "Why? Aside from the fact that he and you have some sort of mind link. Aside from his being part Kurota. What does all of that matter to _you_? Afraid you'll get hurt when he dies?" 

"I _will_ be hurt. You don't kill half of a mind-link like ours off without causing a lot of pain to the other half," I tell him quietly. "But that's not why. I don't know what it is. I like him as a person. His lifestyle bugs me, yeah, but I can see how he got there and I'm not the one to tell him – or you – how to resolve that one. He's become a friend and he matters to me. Okay? Is that enough for you?" 

At last Feitan nods. "It'll have to be," he agrees grimly. 

QUOLL:   
"I don't suppose there's a chance I could be chained up more comfortably?" I ask my captor as he examines me. I wriggle my fingers. They're starting to get cold from lack of circulation. 

Absently, the old man murmurs, "It's hardly going to matter. You're going to be dinner for the Queen soon enough." He cocks his head at me. "After, of course, we've gotten what we need from you." He sticks a thermometer in my mouth, silencing me for a few minutes. 

When I can speak again, I ask, "And that would be?" 

Rheumy eyes blink at me. "What? Oh, what we need from you? Your genetic material. Fortunately for her majesty, we only need a portion for our breeding project." At my rolled eyes, he smiles, even as he puts an ice-cold stethoscope on my chest. A sharp memory comes back to me, the same eyes, the same cold, calculating expression and the same damned ice-cold stethoscope. "You didn't think we thought we could control _you_ anymore, did you?" 

"I could always bargain," I answer, shrugging a little. "I can bargain quite well when my life is on the line." 

"No doubt. It was part of your training, though I get the impression you've forgotten that." 

I don't answer, allowing an puzzled frown to cross my face. I haven't forgotten nearly as much as the old man thinks and I'm beginning to remember more every minute. Not that I intend him to realize that. Instead I tell him, "Well, if you really intended me to keep my training in mind, maybe you shouldn't have dumped me like so much garbage." 

A startled expression crosses the old man's face and he stops prodding my stomach momentarily. "You've blocked quite a bit more than I'd thought," he says quietly. "If we'd had no use for you, boy, we would have destroyed you. Not left you out where you could be causing us trouble. Admittedly, we wouldn't have found the Kurota tribe's home otherwise, but still." He shrugs. "Doesn't really matter. You've far passed any point where we can trust you. Our tools can't be permitted to think for themselves." 

I glance around at the chimera ants surrounding us. Ten or so, listening to the sounds of the music from the radio or eating something that I really don't want to identify. _Some_one_, rather._ At least I understand why the old guy wasn't too happy with my efforts to affect the kitty. Especially since I think I would have succeeded. There had been a light in her eyes that I thought might turn to outright interest if given the chance. Considering what she is, though, maybe it's better I don't succeed there. Her kind is likely to be enough trouble without the ability to think for themselves. "So," I say, forcing my voice to stay casual. "If you didn't dump me, then, how did I get to Comet Star City? And why didn't you take me back sooner?" 

A dry chuckle comes from behind me and an exhausted sounding voice gasps, "Because, boy. I had a _Nen_ shield put on you before I left you with Johan." Somehow I manage to spin around enough to see who spoke and find a grey haired man hanging from another set of chains. "Not that that did much good when your eyes kicked in. My fault, I fear. Mine too for being such a damnfool as to get captured again." 

I can't help but stare for a long silent moment. I know the face, despite the years. An image flashes through the minefields of my memory. Crouched in a darkened corner, sirens blaring, lights flashing above us. That face above mine, expression angry and distant, eyes gleaming a bright ruby red. The face of the man who'd gotten me out of the hands of my creators. 

My father. 

KURAPIKA:   
"We were friends, Lucifer's father and I," Johan explains quietly. "He'd left home for a time and had been fascinated by the outside world. I trained him in _nen_ and helped him get his Hunter's license. Then he disappeared for a while – twenty six years ago. When he reappeared a few years later he refused to discuss what happened and went back home for almost ten years. When he came back again, he had a boy in tow, a ten year old with a weird tattoo on his forehead." 

I nod, finishing the last healing session and sitting back. "He was Kurota, then?" At Johan's murmured agreement, I continue. "And he left Quoll with you because he couldn't have taken him home." That made sense. He must not have been able to kill his own son but he couldn't possibly have brought him to our people. Not with the prophecy. 

"He told me that he had escaped his captors for a while and had spent those years back with your people before guilt got the better of him and he'd tried to find the child created from his genes." Johan sighed. "But he could hardly stand to look at the boy and asked me to take him in. He never _ever_ told me what would happen if Quoll found his family or I would have kept the boy from ever trying to find them." 

It wasn't hard for me to understand why Quoll had gone looking. The same reason I'd left home, or partly. Looking for his family. Looking for his past. I'd been training but I'd also hoped to find a clue to where my own father had gone. I'd not seen him since I was three years old and Jurik just barely one A strange thought occurs to me and I swallow, hard. _No. It's not that easy. Surely._

Johan's eyes are on me though and he smiles wryly. "He showed me a picture of his wife and sons before leaving again. Said it was because of the younger one that he'd not been able to handle the guilt. Apparently the boy looked a lot the child he'd left behind. Too much so. He _couldn't_ leave Lucifer in the hands of people like the ones who'd captured him, even though he knew what the prophecy said." The old man sighs. "You favor your mother, of course, but your little brother looked like your father. And Lucifer." 

To Be Continued: 

* * *

Author's Note: Well, I trust this episode explains exactly why I won't be going the Yaoi route. Not that I particularly object to such. (Waves at Lynlyn.) I just wanted to see if I could establish a close, bickering, relationship that _wasn't_ going to end up with the two characters in love with each other. 

Strictly speaking I ought to have made some effort to foreshadow the relationship in earlier chapters. When I'm finished with the whole thing I'll go back and fix some of the more obvious errors, that included. For now, though, figure that somewhere earlier the fact that Kurapika's father has been missing for years has been alluded to. Anyway they _are_ close kin. Still at least one more revelation to come, but that'll have to wait another episode. Maybe in February, the Gods willing and the other stuff I'm doing doesn't rise up and bite me in the rear. 

Hikaru: Well, here it is January and here's an update. Happy? 

Kasugai Gumi: Y'know, my older son is a wibbler. It's a scary sound and I don't want you to have to wibble any more, so here we are. I waffled over the decision to make the two of them close kinfolk for a while there. I have to agree that they make a good couple too, just not in this particular fic, I fear. 

Shinomori no Kami Daji: I hope the explanation Quoll gave in the story explains exactly _why_ he ended up calling himself that. Q013 became Quole, but he didn't like the way it would be pronounced so dropped the e. It's leet speak, something I don't use myself, but he'd be aware of it and chose it more out of sheer perversity than anything else. 

Miyoshi: Actually, if you check some of the Japanese sites you'll find a lot of them use the Quoll spelling. Since the name is spelled using katakana in the original manga it becomes a matter of choice as to where you want to go with it. 

Windlion: I think you're the first one to pick up the clue as to their relationships. You are hereby No-Prized. grin Oh, and I would _love_ to see some more good Quoll (or Kuroro or whatever)/Kurapika fics out there, so Flidge isn't the only one who gets to say, "Write!" 

Bleeding Heart12: Yep. January and here it is. 


	15. Cavalry

An Amusing Interlude: Part 15: Cavalry – in which rescue is underway.   
By   
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity. 

* * *

QUOLL:   
"I hope you'll understand when I say that I would have done better to have killed you?" Arissen's eyes avoid mine, as if fearing to see my thoughts in my face. Not that he would, I think. At my chuckle, he starts, turning to look at me, eyebrows raised. I've seen that expression in a mirror, have seen it occasionally on my friend – _oh, wait, my baby brother's_ - face. The look of a man not quite sure how to react and covering it. 

"I hope _you'll_ understand when I say that I'm glad you did not?" I would shrug but my shoulders are hurting – we've been hanging by our wrists for some time now. "Not that I'm glad, or even proud, of what resulted. It just happened. We deal with it or we don't. Either way, the world keeps turning." 

A soft chuckle escapes Arissen's lips. "Well, yes. True enough." He eyes me, examining my face. "Why all the reversed crosses?" 

I can't help but grin. "Kurapika wonders the same thing," I tell him, "Though he's much too polite to ask." This, however, is our father. A man who, no doubt, is finding himself faced with a child he never meant to father and is trying to work out how to deal with. "They're a look. An expression of my alliances. Why? Going to ground me if I don't wear something more reasonable?" I grin to take the sting off my last words. I know how far I can tease Kurapika. I'm not so sure about this man. He resembles me, the same pointed chin, shaggy black hair and huge eyes – though his are blue – but he is Kurota by upbringing and I'm not sure what sort of sense of humor he has.

He considers that for a long moment, then smiles wryly. "I'm not in a position to question your dress sense, Lucifer. _Or_ your choice in names. I waived that right when I left you with Johan." 

There is regret in his tone, a regret I find a bit hard to understand. He left me safe and alive, which was more than some would have done and I say as much. "I have to wonder what _I_ would have done. You were forced to father me. You owed me nothing." Is it the Kurota upbringing that makes them take so much responsibility onto themselves, I wonder? 

A bright red flush crosses Arissen's cheeks. "Strictly speaking, no. I didn't father you. Not the way you think. They did to me what I believe they'll be doing with you." He glances over my shoulder, towards our captor. The old man is busy with something at a console but I have a feeling he can hear our conversation. "Clausen and the others hired me as a bodyguard – I thought – and one time, while I was unconscious from a fight I'd been in protecting _him_, they took." The flush gets brighter. "It wasn't until later that I found out what they really were up to." 

I'm only mildly surprised. It probably simplified matters immensely to take what they needed and do all the combination work in the lab. Besides, it would surely have been even more complicated to handle thirteen different pregnancies. "I'm a test tube baby, then." 

"You're still my son genetically," Arissen reassures me. Oddly, I rather appreciate his doing so. I keep finding things out about myself that leave me standing alone among many. My 'brothers' and 'sisters' are all gone – having failed to survive either their Eyes or their training. _Possibly both._ "You're of my blood. I owed you something. Owed you, and failed to pay that debt." 

KURAPIKA:   
I have felt this anger before. The anger of knowing the innocent have suffered. The rage of understanding that a great evil, a terrible wrong, has been done. A wrong that could, surely, have no justification. Before I felt that rage for the people I stand before. Before I felt this fury for the slayers of my people. Not now, not when I understand what happened, that there were reasons and causes behind what was done. I wonder if I will be able to feel the same, if I learn the truth behind what they tell me now? 

Yet how can there be any similarities? These people killed mine to protect themselves. To protect someone who mattered to them. There was no intent to cause harm initially. The ones whose throats I want now, however, are those behind this game, this terrible, cruel game called Greed Island. A game that uses human lives as its counters. Surely such a thing cannot possibly be forgiven? 

"No one is dying over it, aside from the players," Feitan points out dryly. "It's infuriating, unfair and unforgivable, but it's also not nearly so bad as you're making it out to be." He glances at his fellows. "As far as we can tell, our people are being used as templates for the game characters. They, themselves, aren't put into danger." 

Shalnark nods. "It seems the chosen ones were hired. No one expected the game to last for so very long, though. No one thought it would be so impossible to win. No one thought there'd be such a rivalry among the players as to make everything all the harder to complete. I don't think anyone thought the players would rob and murder each other in order to win." 

"It gets pretty nasty," Phinx remarks. "Some of the players seem to be playing just so they _can_ kill people." He grins reminiscently, as if particularly amused about something, then shrugs. "Doesn't buy them much, but human nature is what it is." He eyes me. "It's more our business than yours. I suppose we'd take your help if Danchou was here but" 

I sigh. "And that's the important point, isn't it? He isn't and somehow we have to get him out and _you_ still need to see about getting your people out of that game." 

Feitan coughs softly, "Not to mention keeping a certain traitorous clown from finding out about the Danchou before Quoll is good and ready." He eyes me curiously. "So, what do you propose we do?" 

I only wish I had a good plan. There are good reasons for the Ryodan to keep doing what they're doing. Other – just as good ones – to go after Quoll. "All right. Some of you have to stay with Greed Island, then. Are you trying to win the game so that it can be finished?" 

Shalnark shakes his head. "We could, maybe, but there's at least two teams too close to winning to make it not worth the effort. On the other hand, we might be able to get some of our people out without finishing the game. We just have to find out where they're being kept." 

Between that, and keeping Hisoka from finding out what's really going on, I figure at least half the remaining Spiders need to be on Greed Island. "Borenulf has the ability to search for things. You'll want him." 

"Coltopi, to help us identify copies," Feitan agrees. "And Shalnark, to help us figure out the rules so we can avoid getting caught. Shizuka to help clean up if we do." 

I try very hard not to think about that aspect. I'd already promised myself I wasn't going to. It's hard not to get upset. I've seen why these people think the way they do. I have to acknowledge that they have reasons for doing the things they do. Yet everything in me says that what they do is as wrong as the things that have been done to them. Something in my expression must show my feelings, for Feitan shrugs, as if to say, 'what do you expect?'

I expect the world to be a better place. I expect its people to treat each other with respect. I don't expect the cruelties I keep running into. My upbringing has left me unprepared to deal, unprepared to accept the reality of a world that creates such people. _All of which brings us no closer to rescuing Quoll._ I force myself to focus on the situation at hand. "All right. What of Nobunaga and Franklin? Can you spare them?" 

"Them and myself." Feitan agrees and I see Phinx's lips tighten. "I'm going and you're not. That's final." 

"No, it isn't." Phinx glares at his compatriot and I can see an argument brewing. Before I manage another blink the two men are growling at each other. I open my mouth to speak but the argument has grown too loud. Much of it is in Star City dialect and at the speed at which they talk it's impossible for me to pick up more than a few phrases. What I _do_ understand is that they've almost always been teamed, that Phinx is unwilling to permit his partner in mayhem to take a risk that he won't be taking himself. 

_Trouble is, they can't both go and Feitan has an edge over Phinx in subtlety. Where we're going we're going to need that. On the other hand, they could use Feitan on Greed Island, too._ The decision is impossible to make and for a brief moment I'm flummoxed. Only a sudden memory of an earlier argument gives me the solution. "STOP THAT!" I yell, just loud enough to get their attention. Startled, angry at me now for interrupting, the two men glare and open their mouths to yell at me instead. Before they can I pull out a coin and toss it at the nearer of the two. "You know how to settle it. The one who wins the toss goes with me." 

QUOLL:   
I'm dreaming again, this time deliberately letting myself drift, my mind flickering through various thoughts but holding onto none of them. Images move past my closed eyes, confused and near impossible to decipher. Cold metal and warm arms. A soft voice whispering a lullaby in my ear. A bewildering welter of sensations that I both want and fear. 

::_Kurapika._:: 

I'm walking a minefield, traveling past memories and places and things that are not part of my own Self. These are what my mind stole from those who should have been my people. _Not their souls, please whatever god I don't worship, not, not, _not_ their souls_. They are judgment upon me for what I have done, my own personal jury. Even if Kurapika and I weren't linked I think I would always have to face them, here in the depths of my dreams. 

It is always an effort to ignore their silent accusation, the cold memories of the past. An effort but one I must make, else what dregs of sanity I have left will drain away into nothingness. I have to pass them, however, to find the one memory that is not truly memory but one end of the link between myself and Kurapika. 

::_Quoll?_:: The faintest touch on in my mind and I feel better already. There is something, I think, about the Kurota that makes us _need_ each other. If there is anything I could blame Arissen for, it would be for not realizing that, for not understanding that by leaving me – even in the safekeeping of a good friend – he had left me unable to do anything _but_ seek him and the other Kurota out. I could blame him, but I will not. By his lights he did his best for me. 

::_I have news_:: I tell Kurapika through our link. 

::_So do I._:: 

The two of us are silent. I, because I have no idea how to tell him what I've learned. ::_You first_.:: we both say and I can't help laughing at our foolishness. Especially when, neither sure who should speak first, we both say, ::_We're brothers._:: 

There's a long moment of silence. At last Kurapika asks, ::_Johan told _me_ but how could you know?_:: 

It's all the harder to say what has to be said. I know it's only going to upset him more. Nor can I hide the truth from him. He deserves that much. At last I answer. ::_Our father, Arissen, is here with me. He was the Nen user Johan sent for to shield us. He was captured._:: 

An even longer silence and I can feel the fear and worry flowing through our link. The emotion is quickly suppressed. ::_Is he well?_:: 

::_Considering that we're both chained up by our wrists, trapped among a bunch of monsters called Chimera Ants and headed for certain death? Oh, just peachy keen._:: My answer is an attempt to put as light as possible a slant onto the situation, to keep Kurapika from realizing just how scared I really am. He goes silent and thoughtful. ::_Kurapika?_:: 

::_Yes?_:: 

::_If you can't get us out of here then you need to make sure the Chimera Ants don't get hold of our remains._:: There is puzzlement in his response and I explain, ::_They're part of the same kind of experiments that created me, but I think they may be infinitely worse. They evolve._:: I show him images of what I'd read in my books, then images of what surround me and I can feel his horror. ::_Give them Kurota blood and they'll have the Eye as well._:: 

::_I can't leave you two to die._:: His dream image has a terrified look on its face. Terrified and determined. I can understand his worry. He knows I'm right but he also can't bear the thought of losing his only blood-kin left. _Even if one of those kin is the reason there are no others._

I manage a smile. ::_Kura-cha, little brother, I have no wish to die. I do not intend to die without a fight. But face the facts. If Arissen and I become part of the brood's feeding schedule it will be a disaster beyond what I did to our people. I readily admit to being without much in the way of conscience but there are some things that can't be permitted._:: 

He takes a deep breath. ::_How long do you think you have?_:: 

::_They want to take samples from me, probably from Arissen as well. At least a day to make sure they get enough. If it looks to me like there's no other way I'll do what I have to._:: 

::_Then I have to hurry._:: The link starts to fade, then strengthens. ::_Quoll will you give our father my regards and tell him_:: The thought breaks off, a small choking sound behind it. ::_Tell him I love him._:: 

KURAPIKA:   
"What's up?" Feitan looks at me worriedly as I open my eyes. I glance over at Franklin, whose big hands are piloting the small plane with a delicate touch. He nods, confirming that we're on the course I pointed out to him. "You zoned out." 

"The link," I explain. "Quoll had to tell me something." I want nothing so much as to curl up into a ball and hide from what I've learned. I have all the more to lose now, a father who I haven't seen in years, a brother whom I hadn't even known was my brother and who was now my friend. At the same time I know Quoll's right. I don't understand what Chimera Ants are, nor how they breed, but I do understand that letting them have Kurota abilities on top of everything else they can do is more than can be allowed. 

Feitan is still watching me, eyes narrowed now, waiting for a further explanation. I sigh. There isn't much choice. He has to understand the risks. "Those things we fought. The creatures that stole Quoll, are called Chimera Ants. They're a kind of insect. They use the genetic material of their victims to take on their victim's characteristics. We can't let them have Kurota genes. They're already too dangerous as it is." 

"Then we _have_ to get the Danchou free." 

I nod. "Or make sure nothing of him remains to feed their queen." 

Behind me Nobunaga makes a sharp, angry, sound. "What? WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?" 

"What Quoll himself has told me." I look at Nobunaga as levelly as possible. "He's my brother, Nobunaga. Worse, they have our father too. There's nothing in this world I want to do less than I want to destroy the two of them. But if they fall, if we fail to rescue them, we have to destroy the Ants before they can breed the Eye into themselves." 

Feitan considers that with the coldness that I sense he uses when a hard decision has to be made. "Nobunaga, if it gets to that point, the Danchou will be dead anyway. What's left won't care what we do to him." He looks at me. "How long do we have?" 

"A day at most. I think we can get to the laboratory before they're finished with Quoll." I focus my thoughts, feeling along the link, feeling Quoll's presence as it grows nearer. "Franklin, shift our course a bit further south. Nobunaga, get the map out. Let's see if we can figure out where they're headed." 

Feitan raises an eyebrow at me but says nothing as the map is pulled out and the three of us examine it. "The Baltos archipelago. Near NGL, if not directly on it." At my confused expression, Feitan explains, "Neo Green Life. It's a place where technology is forbidden. They've had people executed for bringing even so much as a camera in. There are rumors they have something to do with a drug ring but that's about all I know about it. Shalnark might have seen more in his research." 

I nod. "If technology is forbidden, though, then they can't be headed there." A thought occurs to me. "Unless they're using that as a cover." As Feitan nods consideringly, I focus on my link with Quoll. We're no closer than we were before but neither are we losing ground. "All right. Whether or not it's NGL the plan remains the same. We parachute in as close to the lab as possible, break Quoll and my father out somehow and escape. Also somehow." I shake my head. "This is madness, isn't it? We haven't got a clue what we're doing." 

"Not the Danchou's style," Feitan agrees wryly, "But all things considered, we don't have time for planning. So we make it up as we go along."

"In which case," Nobunaga says dryly, "I'm taking a nap. Wake me when we're there." 

QUOLL:   
_So. This must be the place._ I wince as one of the Chimera Ants throws me over his shoulder and carts me through a stone passageway, the pressure of his exoskeleton pinching into my bared chest. The flickering red of torchlight gleams on the walls and I have to wonder why they're using such old-fashioned lighting. Even in Star City we have electric power. 

Behind my captor another Chimera Ant carries Arrisen, his legs and rear about all I can see of him. He's hanging limp, though I think he is simply conserving energy. He knows as well as I do what we will have to do if we cannot escape. _Don't really want to die at all but definitely don't want to become part of a breeding program via digestive process either._ I'm planning, trying to decide what to do and how. I could pull my Skill-book right now but with this many Ants and my wrists chained, I wouldn't have time to act before they can. No, it's necessary to wait a bit longer. To find the most opportune moment because if I screw up that's going to be it. 

My captor carries me into a cell formed from thick iron bars. The flickering light casts dark shadows dancing against the walls and the scent is too familiar for words. _Back into the frying pan, little fishie,_ I think wryly. _To be eaten up, this time._

The old man looks in as Arrisen is dropped on the floor beside me. As the gate closes a faint humming starts and I feel a headache forming behind my eyes. He nods at my expression. "Exactly. This cell contains a projection unit that continuously sends a signal to interfere with your Eyes and Arrissen's. So if you have thoughts of escape using its power, you may as well forget them."

He smiles assuredly. "Nor can your _Nen_ save you. Your stolen skills are an unknown factor but with your arms pulled behind your back like that there's no way you can use an ability that requires you to read a book. And Arrissen's shielding _Nen_ is equally useless. Even if we cannot see you in this room we will know by other methods whether or not the cell door has opened." He bows to us and, along with his Ants, leaves us to ourselves. 

"Damn him." Arrissen grumbles. "I should never have let him find out so much about me." 

I shrug, twisting a bit in my chains so that I'm able to stand up and examine the cell and the area outside. Then I consider the way I'm chained. Wrists cuffed above the opposite elbow behind my back, no way to work my arms down enough to pull them around, no way to see my Skill Book even if I materialize it. _All right. I know what to do. Going to hurt a bit though._ Moving to my father's side, I kneel and whisper. "Shield us from sound and view." 

"Eh?" He focuses his thoughts and I can see him bringing his _Nen_into play. There's a shimmering in the air around us. "I don't suppose you have a reason for this?" he says louder. 

"Would I ask, otherwise?" I turn my back to him, materializing my Skill Book. "I'm going to start flipping pages, Arrissen. Please tell me when you see one that says something about hair." The pages slide from one side to the other, my thoughts shifting them. 

"Now. Should I take it that Clausen was mistaken about your conditions?"

I don't ordinarily discuss my abilities, but right now I don't have a choice about revealing something of their nature. "Something like that," I agree. "Read it for me, please?" I have to know what's on the page but nothing in the condition requires _me_ to read it. 

Once he's done so, I sigh, feeling the shift in my _Nen_. Feeling the ability form in my thoughts. "Now, turn around so I can reach your cuffs. I'll need you to put them as close to my hair as possible." 

One thing I appreciate about my father is his quick thought. He may not entirely understand what I'm going to do, but he's willing to give me the chance to do it. I can feel his wrists behind me and focusing on the ability that I've selected, cause my hair to become narrow threads that move according to my will. Very carefully I work them into the keyhole of Arrissen's cuffs and pick the lock. 

"Now comes the painful part," I say. "Help me pull my arms up far enough for my hair to reach the cuffs." Arrissen does so, even as I regret that I'd not let my hair grow out a bit more. It's longer than some men's, but the man I stole this skill from had had a long mane that could reach over a yard from his body. It's almost impossible to hold onto my Book, have my arms pulled up so high behind me _and_ work the lock through the pain. Only determination sees me through and I'm left gasping on the floor once my hands are freed. 

"Lucifer. I don't want to rush you, but the sooner we're out of here the better. We don't know how long we have." Arrissen's tone reminds me, oddly, of that Kal tribesman, Karrick. Reproving, yet strangely comforting. 

I nod, forcing myself to sit back up, to rub life back into my aching shoulders. Once more I pull out my Skill Book, but this time I don't need help to find the right page or to learn what it says. Putting a hand on my father's shoulder, I teleport us out of the cage. 

As I do, there's an explosion somewhere above us that rocks the building. Arrissen looks at me and we raise our brows simultaneously. The cavalry has arrived. 

To Be Continued 

* * *

Author's Comments: 

Yeesh. It's hard to find the brains needed to write. Once I start everything's okay, but kicking myself into gear is the problem. In any case, next episode will be the rescue. Probably not until after the Con whose Art Show I run is over. Going to have to think of a good C word for it. *sigh* I'm running out. 

Yukitsu: Arrissen would like to note that he did _not_ bear Quoll, but that, aside from that, you've got the timeline right.//Dad is alive because they (the evile nasties behind everything) still have a use for him. Breeding material. Besides, if they kill him too soon he won't be a tasty treat for the Queen Ant.//When I get to the end, be sure to pass me a list of grammar, spelling etc. errors. I'll be doing an update and clean up when I'm done. 

Lynlyn: (blushes embarassedly) Well, deep dark secret is that there is an unpostable Yaoi fic I wrote that well got sent off to an Alternate Alternate Universe owing to the relationship. I'm not sure that I can write a serious Shonen Ai take on Quoll and Kurapika, though. I tend to be rigid about the way a universe I'm writing goes. We'll see.//The movie was a Tom Cruise whose name is escaping me at the moment.//The spiked bracelets come from a doujinshi retelling Snow White and the 7 dwarves, with Quoll as the princess. There's a point where the outfit turns to Chun Li's.//Johan's injury was a removed skull with some pins to the nerve endings. Some small damage, but nothing beyond Kurapika's Red Eye enhanced healing chain.//I think I have a fair amount of timeline mix-ups going on in the story I didn't have a full set of translation at the time but I'll probably just say it's an AU thing and leave it at that. But yes, the Greed Island and Chimera Ants stuff is pretty much what's going on in the last two arcs. No surprise that you're thinking of using them. They're there in Togashi's stuff, after all.//And I'm afraid Quoll probably _is_ the cause of the Ants wanting names.//I can't remember which spelling to use to save my life. Another thing for the final edit. 

Kasugai Gummie: Oh, no problem. I just laugh because real wibbling is such a hilarious sound. Sort of a warbling whining wail. (I'm such a mean old mommy, laughing at my little boy's wibbles.)//BL fangirl?//(Pats Kaugai's Kurapika-muse on the head.) 


	16. Carnage

An Amusing Interlude: Part 16: Carnage – Of which there is much.   
By  
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity.

KURAPIKA:  
I lash out with my chains, tugging my enemy out of its tree and flinging it to the ground. This one looks like a mix between a mantis and a penguin, a combination that I'd find hilarious if it weren't for the gravity of the situation. As I knock the Chimera Ant out with another chain, I hear Nobunaga swearing. A quick glance his way shows the swordsman barely evading being bashed over the head by a huge club. His opponent is big, the size of the elephant whose genes must somehow have found their way into the mix. It swings its club with its trunk.

Before I can move to his aid, Nobunaga dodges sideways, arms and sword a blur as he slices. A moment later the Chimera Ant screams, its trunk cut off at the base. Nobunaga comes to a halt and flicks blood off his sword, looking pleased with himself. Before he can move again, though, another blur of motion rushes past him and with a final shriek the Chimera Ant drops back, dead. Feitan pauses briefly in his rush through the yard and glares at his compatriot. "Don't play with them. We don't have time."

Nobunaga has no time to issue a complaint. Feitan is gone, returning to his own battles. He's taken down scores of smaller ants already, though exactly how he's doing it is something I have yet to work out. Nobunaga turns a sour look at me. "What are _you_ looking at, Kurota?"

I sigh. Working with these people is damned hard. Harder than working with Quoll, in fact. Of course, Nobunaga has the biggest reason to hate me. My own hatred has been – not erased, never entirely erased – but quieted by what I've learned. It's harder for him, I didn't mean Ubogin to die the way he did but I _did_ want him dead. "Nothing," I tell him finally. It's futile to suggest these two take a less final, less destructive, path to rescue their Danchou. They are what they are, and while it rankles I knew what I was getting into when I asked for their help. "Let's get inside, quick."

QUOLL:  
The noises somewhere above us are very familiar. The staccato beat of Franklin's bullets, interspersed here and there with the bass drum of an explosion. There are other threads in the melody that I cannot hear but my imagination provides anyway. The soft hiss of Nobunaga's katana, perhaps, or the thrum of Machi's strings as they strike – depending on which of my Spider have joined Kurapika on his rescue mission. Then, of course, there is the jingle of my brother's chains. All counterpoint to the sounds of death and dying. I could almost find it in me to feel sympathy for our enemies were it not for the fact that they _are_ our enemies. They would take our lives as readily as my Spider takes theirs.

"Enthusiastic," Arrissen murmurs as a particularly loud explosion rocks the hallway and sends dust scattering around us. I shrug in response, focusing my attention on getting our asses out of this place. Arrissen's shields can only do so much to protect us from notice. "Are they always this way?"

"When it's appropriate. I try to choose the right one for the right job," I answer, examining the lock on a metal cabinet and deciding it isn't worth the time it would take to pick. Instead I blow a small hole in it with my newest Skill and pull it open. Inside are our things, my _benz_ knife, my coat and a dark blue tunic, a long pair of wrist blades and several bags of assorted candies. I raise my brow at the last as Arrissen straps his weapons on and he gives me a shrug not far different from the one I'd just given him. "Low blood sugar," he tells me.

I grin as he puts his sweets away and head for the door. "How much longer can you maintain the shield?" I ask, "Our rescuers are doing a good job of distraction but sooner or later someone is going to realize just what's up."

Arrissen's frown of concentration is very like my own and I have a moment of double vision from those all too short weeks I'd spent in his company as a child. Somewhere in the back of my mind, that child wants to scream at him for leaving me but I force it to be silent. He had done the best he could for me and I knew it, even if I didn't like it.

"Another thirty or so minutes of full shielding," Arissen tells me finally. "After that, we'll have to fight."

I nod. "Then drop it for now. Save it for when we really need it." I shrug into my coat and tighten my self-control. "Let's go."

KURAPIKA:  
I can feel him, somewhere ahead and below, the link between us growing stronger as the distance decreases. Around me are the sounds of explosions, the screams and gasps of the dying, grim counterpoint to the silence of death. I have to admit one thing about the Spider. They are dreadfully efficient when they want to be. Ahead of me, Nobunaga is cutting our way past a door, while Franklin guards our backs. Feitan has chosen to stand beside me, dark eyes unreadable as I look at the destruction we've wrought. None of the dead are mine – I still cannot bring myself to kill, even under these circumstances – but that doesn't matter. I am responsible for bringing the Spider here. _I feel sick._

"It gets easier," Feitan says quietly beside me and I can't help but glare at him. _Easier? Who says I want it to be easier?_ Something about my expression causes the Spider to smile wryly. "Hiding the nausea, that is." As my eyes widen, he adds, "It's even easier when it's your life or theirs." He spins, then, rushing at some chimera ants that had managed to find their way past Franklin and I stare after him. _Did he mean what I think he meant?_ I force the thoughts away as the doorway opens and we are caught up in yet another fight.

"Damnit! Where are they coming from?" Nobunaga's complaint echoes my own feelings. It's getting harder and harder to fight without killing anyone. I almost envy the Spider for their ability to set aside morals in favor of getting the job done. _What am I thinking?_ I demand of myself, wondering if Quoll had ever felt the way I do now, if he had – in the end – fallen or jumped?

::_Fallen? Hell! We were pushed!_:: Quoll's voice in my mind startles the hell out of me. We're getting closer and the link between us must be getting stronger. I'd been so busy trying to stay alive to notice. ::_Never mind that, Kurapika. In about twenty feet you're going to be coming to a corridor our father has shielded from view. Take a left into it. You'll find things a lot quieter._:: His tone is tense, and I realize the effort to use this form of communication is a drain on his resources. Along with the 'sound' of his voice in my mind are other sounds. Howls of rage, howls of hatred, the cries of my peoples' stolen memories. Then the link fades back to its normal level.

I gesture at Franklin, telling him, "Clear things up the hallway. We need to be out of sight."

He nods, not bothering to answer as he sets up a covering fire for us. As the Chimera Ants are forced back I search along the walls, feeling for the entranceway. I'm strangely loathe to do so, a part of my mind insisting that there's no point, that there's nothing to see there. At last, though, my hand goes through an apparent metal panel and I stumble forward into a much quieter hall. "This way!" I grab Nobunaga and pull him in. A moment later Feitan, then Franklin, join us.

"The hell?" Nobunaga blinks, staring at the corridor. "Where'd this come from?"

"Answers later," I tell him grimly. "Come on. Your boss is waiting for us." Running down the hall, we come into a large room filled with computers and other machines. Sitting slouched forward in a chair is a dark-haired figure whom I momentarily mistake for Quoll. Except there's grey in that black hair. He doesn't lift his head as we enter, just makes a welcoming gesture. I stare at him, hardly able to breathe. It's been years since I saw him last. _Father._

"He's putting everything he has into keeping the shield up," Quoll says from one side of the room. "We don't have much more time." He nods quickly to his compatriots then gestures for me to join him, his eyes on something in a monitor. I follow his gaze and stare, barely able to breathe.

Rank on rank of glass bottles. Floating in each are two round red gleaming objects. My people's eyes.

QUOLL:  
Somewhere in the back of my mind my victims are screaming. The image of their eyes, row upon row of them, exacerbates their rage, inflames their hatred. I want to grab my head and crouch into a corner. I want to scream and howl in response, to ask the one question I have never been able to answer. What in the name of hell could I have done differently? _WHAT? _

I force the thoughts of those others back again, though it's desperately hard to do so, looking at their eyes. My hands are clenched in my pockets and I can feel sweat pouring down my cheeks. I can hear my Spiders' voices, speaking my name worriedly, but I can't afford the energy needed to answer them. Only Kurapika's voice, echoing in my mind and sharply annoyed, ::_Stop that._:: I'm not sure if he's talking to me or to the voices in my head but his aggravated and very down-to-earth tone cuts through the static readily.

::_I don't know if you're torturing yourself or if they are, but stop it. Now. This is _not_ the time._:: At last I manage to open my eyes and look at my younger brother with a mix of exhaustion and gratitude. Both of which I quickly cover up with a wry smile. He rolls his eyes at me as he speaks aloud. "We're taking them with us." There is no room for argument in his tone and I smile a bit more wryly. I'd already seen that one coming.

Nobunaga makes an angry noise. "You don't get to boss the Danchou," he growls, stepping up so that his face is in Kurapika's. My brother ignores him, though, in favor of looking at me with a raised brow. When I nod in return, Nobunaga blinks at me. "But Danchou!"

"It isn't a problem, Nobunaga. And he's right. I'm not particularly comfortable with those who own this place having access to Kurota eyes. There must be a reason they're here and – whatever that reason is – I'm not inclined to permit them to have their way." I glance at Feitan, who is examining one of the computers with interest. "Do you have an idea of where that room is?"

"Already on it, Danchou." That's one of the things I appreciate about Feitan. Once it's obvious I've made a decision he doesn't waste time acting on it. "I'm printing a map now." As the nearby printer clatters I glance over at my father. He's sweating, obviously exhausted and close to the end of his rope. "You want their files, too?"

"As many as you can copy in the next ten minutes." Arrissen had told me the maximum time he could hold the shield. I'm pushing that time close, but we need whatever Feitan can get. "No longer. Franklin and Nobunaga get him" I point at Arrissen, "out of here. Where is your transport, in case we're separated?"

Nobunaga is making fish faces but I ignore him as Feitan answers. Once he's done I turn to Kurapika. "Feitan, you and I will get the eyes. I'll need you in case I have problems with my companions. Feitan is back up for those robots. Any disagreement?"

"None." Kurapika looks at our father with an expression of regret. It's obvious he wants to speak to him, to say everything he feels, to hear Arrissen's voice. He knows, as well as I do, that he cannot. To interrupt our father in his effort to keep us safe would be disastrous. He glances at Franklin. "Please. Take care of him."

I take Nobunaga aside. "If we don't come out in two hours leave. Drop Arrissen off in Comet Star City, get the others and come back. If the place is still standing, destroy it." As he stares at me, I continue, "It goes deep, Nobunaga, and the Queen of the hive is probably at the very bottom. She cannot be allowed access to Kurota genes – mine or Kurapika's. Understand me?"

Grimly, he nods and I turn to Kurapika and Feitan. "Come on. Time's wasting."

KURAPIKA:  
We make our way down a labyrinth of metal corridors in a welter of flashing lights and wailing sirens, our ears plugged and eyes covered by dark shades. Both light and noise are Feitan's work, set off to provide confusion to our enemies. That it's confusing to the three of us as well can't be helped. _Sooner or later someone's going to figure out how to shut it all off._ I half wish it would be sooner.

Feitan pauses momentarily, glancing at the map in his hand, then pointing down another corridor. We're getting deeper into the complex and the walls are taking on an organic appearance, metal and stone being sheathed in thin layers of a varnish-like substance. It looks wet but is dry to the touch. Not that I _want_ to touch it. There's something very unpleasant, very _wrong_ about the stuff.

Suddenly silence reigns. The bright, red and blue, flashing light is replaced by a steady dark red. There is a hum in my ears created by the absence of noise and my entire body feels shocked by the change. I remove my ear plugs and glasses, looking at the others as they follow suit. "Time to start running," Quoll comments, using a finger to rub at an ear that must feel just as traumatized as mine. "Feitan. How far?"

"Two more floors down, it looks like." Feitan points down the corridor as we quicken our steps. Then he pauses, eyes alert as he glances down a corridor. I can see nothing, but his expression tells me that either he does or thinks he does.

"Kurapika" I'm already moving as Quoll speaks, chains flipping out as they cross the hallway, forming an elaborate pattern from wall to wall, ceiling to ceiling. If there's something down that way, I'll feel it through my web. The thought makes me pause as I realize yet another parallel between myself and Quoll, or at least his spider. It's a parallel I'm not at all sure I like. I certainly don't like admitting to myself that there are any similarities between the two of us. _But there are, and more than just my use of chains in a web._

A tug on the chains pulls at me and I move as quickly as possible, jerking backwards to drag whatever it is towards us. Feitan is dashing forwards as I do so, dodging around my chains and running along the walls to flip over my capture and behind it. A second later he has a long blade aimed at the throat of a very human woman.

QUOLL:  
I can see it in Kurapika's stance, in the expression on his face. He's torn. He knows perfectly well that our captive is a danger to us, that we may well have kill her. Yet his need to avoid killing is strong, desperately needed in this time of self-doubt. He has worked hard to force himself to be fair and balanced, even with me. Yet it cannot be easy for him. In just over a month and a half he has gone from total loathing and hatred of me, my spider and all he thought we stood for, to an understanding of the forces that drove us to do what we have done. Emotion and logic are at war and leaves him confused and unable to think clearly.

Feitan is looking at me, waiting for my orders. There is nothing in his eyes, no judgment either way, and I know all I have to do is nod and he will slit the woman's throat for her with barely a thought. It took him a long while to form that mental barrier between the cruelty of what he does and does so well and the inner Feitan, the boy who hated the sight and smell of blood. Kurapika does not have that shield and, somehow, I am glad of it. There are times when I wish Feitan hadn't turned out to be so very good at it.

_And this is not the time to regret what has brought us here,_ I point out to myself with asperity. Aloud, I mutter, "I wish Pakunoda was with us. It would make this simpler." Kurapika glances my way, wincing, and I manage a smile. It wasn't fair of me, really, to remind him of that particular death. "Sorry. That was a cheap shot."

"Yes. It was. What do we do?" Kurapika is forcing himself to speak levelly, to maintain his calm despite everything. "I'd rather not kill But then, you know that."

"Mmmm," I agree, moving forward to peer into the terrified woman's face. She's older, in her late fifties, though if she's a _nen_ user you can't always tell. There's something familiar about her. A memory flickers, a voice in my head. 'Numbers 6, 12 and 13 are beginning to show improvement after the first appearance of the Eye. Of those three, number 12 is fighting training, possibly to the point of damaging herself beyond recall. Number 6 is responding quite well and number 13 is cooperative, but only average in ability. We should focus on number 6 and keep number 13 for backup.' I shudder uncontrollably, hearing the trace of pride in the voice as it mentions number 6, and the disdain for all the rest.

"Quoll?" Feitan's voice holds a faint questioning note and I realize I've been silent for almost a minute. My brother and comrade are both looking at me, worry in their eyes. From Kurapika's expression he fears I'm going to lose control again. Feitan's expression is less readable, but I can tell he's tensing for action, preparing to do something, anything, if I go berserk.

KURAPIKA:  
Quoll gazes at our captive thoughtfully, his expression shifting from lost emptiness to the old calm mask he usually wears. I've seen behind it too often now, though, not to know that it _is_ just a mask, a near perfect self-control. I am suddenly very glad that my Judgment on him before had specified _nen_ only, that it had not prevented him from maintaining his self control with _ten_. A sophistry, perhaps, but one that probably saved our lives. Inwardly, I shudder at the thought of his Eyes going out of control. If they had that night I'd captured him the death toll would have been horrific.

"You," Quoll says softly, "were one of the researchers when I was here before." His words tell me why he is so tense, why I feel the faint edge of fear and anger and hatred along the line of our link. "Correct?" His tone is so mild that one would think that he were discussing the weather, not a childhood of abuse and torture. In the dim light his face is pale, his dark eyes huge and intent, black and fathomless.

She is stiff with fear or anger, eyes wide as she tries to back away, only to stop when Feitan's blade cuts, ever so slightly, into the skin of her throat. Her white hair is tangled around a face that might be attractive if it weren't twisted by emotion. I can't blame her for being afraid – if she is – she is facing the end result of her handiwork and I have no doubt that she has more than earned the death she fears. I force myself to stay silent, this is not my grievance. _Except, perhaps, in how it has affected me and mine._

When there is no answer from our captive, Quoll's lips quirk slightly to the side. "No need, really, to confirm it. I remember you well enough." He looks at Feitan. "She could be useful. Keep her under control and bring her with us." Feitan nods, adjusting his position slightly to make his task easier and I relax ever so slightly.

My relief is short-lived as the woman laughs harshly. "Number 13. You always were the weak one." I give her a look of sheer incredulity, unable to believe that she is truly so stupid as to tempt fate by mocking someone who owed her nothing but contempt and loathing. She continues, " I still don't know how _you_ lived when the others all failed."

A small chuckle escapes Quoll's lips as we continue down the hall and into a stairwell. "Number 6 always _was_ your favorite," he murmurs softly, mockingly. "Maybe that's why she tried so hard she burned herself out?"

QUOLL:  
The memories are coming fast and thick, the deeper we get into the complex. This was the place, I realize, my childhood home. The woman Feitan is guarding figures large in those memories, a hard and unforgiving voice, a stern and demanding figure that brooked no nonsense and permitted no disagreement. If there is any reason I lead my Spider the way I do, it is her. I lead because someone has to, but I leave the rest to their discretion, let them be themselves, no matter how aggravating they may be.

She growls a curse at me and I smile sweetly at her. It has been long time since anything she said mattered. "Of course," I add, throwing salt on the wound, "I can't blame you for preferring her over the rest of us. She was your daughter, wasn't she?"

Beside me, Kurapika jerks to a halt and stares from me to our captive with a devastated look. "_Daughter_?" His shock flickers at me through our link and it occurs to me that I'm not being very smart playing this game of cat and mouse with the good doctor. It's upsetting my brother, who has no defenses against the cruelties the world plays upon itself, particularly when it involves family. "She used her own daughter in the experiment?"

"I'm not sure love played much of a part in the relationship," I say finally, "I rather doubt that she was the one who actually carried the child." He still looks upset and I can't help but touch him through the link. ::_We already know they were doing something cruel._::

"THE HELL I DIDN'T, YOU MISBEGOTTEN BRAT!"

I'm startled at the rage and sudden sharp anguish in the woman's tone. _I'm being cruel too._ I feel I have reason to be, but this is not the time, or place, to strike back at the things she did. I speak, slowly. "If I was wrong that you didn't care about her at all, then I apologize. She _did_ want to please you, I remember that much at least. But there is little reason to argue about it. That the others died and I lived may have been merely a matter of chance." She gives me a startled look, her own anger and fear fading a bit.

Almost grudgingly, she mutters, "Your genetic background was as good or better than hers. I was actually surprised that you didn't do better." That was because I'd been doing my best _not_ to do better. Fighting the training had killed one of my 'brothers', but the harder number 6 had worked, the more was expected of her and the harder she'd had to try. I rather suspect a natural laziness lay at the back of my disinclination to follow the other paths.

Kurapika makes a small, incredulous, noise. "I don't understand this," he whispers. "I don't know _how_ you could have done such a thing. Used your own child in these experiments mothered her just for the experiments Why? WHY?" His anger and passion is plain to see and I can feel his effort not to release his Eyes. It's a good thing that what little training he'd given me has – at least – made it easier for me to bear their presence.

"The improvement of the species I don't expect you to understand."

"YOU'RE DAMNED RIGHT I DON'T!"

KURAPIKA:  
Fury rages through me and only the realization that I could be attracting our enemy's attention quiets me enough to turn my shouting back to a whisper. "I don't understand at all."

"The human race _is_ weak," Feitan points out quietly. "We break easy, both physically and mentally. We are argumentative, divisive, selfish and weak. We do terrible things and make up reasons for doing them that have nothing, or little, to do with the truth. We lie, cheat, steal, murder – all to satisfy our own needs."

I can't help but turn on him. "And you, no doubt, are better?" I ask sarcastically.

"No. I kill, quite a bit more easily than some, and I _have_ come to enjoy the satisfaction of killing someone who desperately deserves it." Feitan's eyes are dark and unreadable as they meet mine. "I lay no claim to superiority. But don't judge me before you judge yourself."

The words sting. I already _have_ judged myself and found myself desperately wanting. I wanted death and destruction and shame for the Spider, all without knowing, or really wanting to know, why they did what they had done. Even now, knowing that my people's insularity, their refusal to accept the concept of inter-breeding, was at much at fault as Quoll and his spiders doesn't make me feel any better. My people are still dead and they are still living. A small, guilty, part of me hates that fact, even while it knows it's wrong.

::_No. What you feel is _not_ wrong,_:: Quoll's thoughts disagree with me. ::_They are what you feel and they are perfectly understandable. That you are willing to set them aside, to acknowledge that their source is based on misunderstanding, may well make you better than many._:: He looks at the woman, whose expression is confused and a little lost. "Humanity has its weaknesses. It also has its strengths. It is, basically, what it has become because it has been shaped by its environment. Shaping it to some specific definition of strength may well weaken it all the more, because those strengths may not be suitable to the world at large."

"Meecham's theorem." A thoughtful look crosses the woman's face. "An interesting contention, if obscure. You have surprising depths."

"You taught me to read," Quoll points out, shrugging. "I just happen to have had access to a larger curriculum than you originally provided."

Feitan makes a disgusted noise. "Can't count the number of jobs we've done where we had to drag home a boatload of books."

I would roll my eyes and make a comment of my own on the subject, but there is something else I have to know. Something I desperately want to understand. "How does stealing my people's eyes relate to improving the species?"

"Oh, those?" Our captive glances at me with a surprised expression. "Isn't it obvious? We were going to clone them."

To Be Continued.

End notes and comments have been moved to my Live Journal over at , to simplify responses. Review here and if I have a response I'll put it in the LJ.


	17. Clone

An Amusing Interlude: Part 17: Clone – In which ethics are tested and more fighting ensues.  
By  
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity.

-

QUOLL:

"WHAT?"

Kurapika and I stare at each other. Continue, more quietly. "Clone them? You want to CLONE them?" Our voices are in near perfect unison. "How _dare_ you?" "What a stupendously _stupid_ idea."

Again the two of us blink at each other. I'm not surprised by the fact that we agree on the matter, though Kurapika is. It's the way our tones match, the anger we both feel, that startles. Some of mine is courtesy of the memories residing in the back of my mind, but much of it is my own. I am not a man of morals, but I have my own ethics. The dead should at least have the right to _stay_ dead, and I say as much. Even as Kurapika says much the same, though not in exactly the same words. "The whole idea dishonors their souls. They should be allowed to rest."

The woman just stares at us a moment before saying, "Souls? I'm a scientist, young man. Humans are just a collection of meat and memory. Without the latter, any clones we might have made would simply have been kin to you. Nothing more." She eyes Kurapika. "You, of all people, should be pleased. It means that your clan could live again." She falters under the weight of our combined glares.

The noise Feitan makes behind his mask is a strangled laugh that quickly silences as the two of us glare at him in turn. Still, I can see the humor of the situation, can see him quiver with suppressed emotion. "You two." He shakes his head, returns to the matter at hand. "Quoll, do we really have time for this?" He glances back the way we came. Nothing coming, yet, but there will be. "The discussion is fascinating, gentlemen, but ill-timed. Considering we're likely to have a ton of ants landing on our heads any minute now."

"True," I agree. "Kurapika, we can consider the ethical considerations of the matter later." I gesture at Feitan to keep moving. "It isn't going to happen, now, anyway."

The woman nods, rather to my surprise. "The project has been cancelled." As we continue walking, she explains, "Doctor Marus decided on another course entirely. I can't say that I agreed with his plans."

The sudden attack of a small group of Chimera Ants interrupts her.

-

KURAPIKA:

As I throttle an ant to unconsciousness my mind is on other things. The idea that these people planned to clone my clan is horrific, the more so because it has put a thought in my mind that I ought not to allow myself. A thought that is seductive in its temptation. I don't believe the woman is right about humans being just a collection of meat and memory, but if she was

"Kurapika! Pay attention!" Quoll's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. Forces me to stop chasing after my own tail to pound on the ant that had nearly ripped my head off. This one's the weirdest I've seen yet. Aardvark and rabbit and _Giraffe? Yeesh._ A movement behind me nearly causes me to strike out blindly, but training takes over and that part of me recognizes my ally. Quoll, back to back with me, book out in one hand, the energies of stolen _Nen_ flaring from the other. Guarding my back.

With a nod, I flick my chains, set them swirling. "I'll immobilize them as much as possible," I tell him. "Got enough?"

"Go for it. Feitan. UP!"

No questions from the little Ryodan. They fight, argue, constantly challenge each other and contend for top place but when the chips are down, they pay attention to the important things. He leaps, dragging his prisoner with him in an impressive display of speed and strength. Immediately I send my chains lashing out, tangling them up in the limbs and bodies of the remaining ants.

Electricity causes the hairs on the back of my neck to rise as it swirls past me in a crackling ball of plasma. Before it strikes them I quickly release my chains. They are part of my mind, not true metal, but it doesn't matter. I could still be injured. The ants start to run, but too late. The energy envelops him and there's a sudden sharp sound of lightning.

When my eyes clear from the dazzle I see that our enemies are down, twitching, more than slightly charred in places. Behind me, Quoll's body sags, and I realize how close to exhausted he is. He says nothing, though, simply sighs, straightens and looks around for Feitan. "We have to get moving. Before more of those find us."

-

QUOLL:

The fight has taken more out of me than I like to admit. _Well, gee. I've been kidnapped, hung from my wrists, using my _Nen_ to escape and fighting nearly non-stop for the last twenty or so hours. I suppose I have a good reason to be exhausted._ I've never had to push my abilities so long or so hard. I need a rest and I'm not going to get one. _Shoulda snagged Arrissen's bag of candy. _

It has to be the exhaustion that causes my thoughts to wander in circles around what our captive has told us. I've read too many stories that tell me that it's a serious mistake to try and do a side-step around death. Never minding ethics or moralities, the results are almost invariably not what the would-be creator expected. Despite that, my mind keeps chasing its own tail, fascinated by the idea. _I could get rid of them. Make them go away entirely._ Somewhere in the depths, there are howls, an argument no more resolvable for my stolen memories than it is for myself. Some would agree, others_said,_ we're _here_!" Feitan snaps his fingers in front of my face. "This is _not_ the time to contemplate your navel." His dark eyes glare up at me, impatiently and I smile at him, impenitent. "Ahhh. There's no talking to you."

Kurapika looks at me with a worried expression and I quirk a smile at him. Then I turn to the door and examine the keypad. "Well, looks like we had a good reason to keep her alive after all," I note, gesturing at Feitan to drag the captive my way. "Open it." Rather surprisingly, she simply nods and begins typing. There is a whoosh a moment later and the door slides open.

The room beyond is as dimly lit as the corridor. Glass and steel reflect the red light. A soft hum fills the room and the air is cool and dry, the scent of antiseptic faint and oh so very familiar. I have to force myself to step through.

Our captive – _I really need to find out her name_ – does something on an inside panel and the door slides shut. For a moment the darkness is near absolute, then lights flicker above us. "Sorry. I didn't want them to be seen from outside," she says quietly as we blink at her.

It's Kurapika who expresses our mutual suspicions. "You're being awfully helpful." At her shrug, he steps closer and looks directly into her eyes. "Why?"

Silence for a long moment. At last she says, "It's one thing to seek the improvement of the human race. Quite another to try and supplant it. The chimera ants breed too fast. Too well." She looks at me. "_You_ are an ill-fated mix of genetics, but you are still human. Your morality is questionable, but you would not seek to destroy everything on the planet to make your own kind dominant."

I spread my hands in a broad shrug. "Hey. I'm just a thief." She rolls her eyes at me. Behind her, the sound Kurapika makes is half-way between a snort of disgust and a bark of laughter. "In any case, I presume you were headed this way for a similar reason to ours?"

"She almost had to be coming to destroy them, though," Kurapika notes. "She's alone, and there are a lot" he is turning, waving at the ranks of jars with his people's eyes, only to stop as he spots something else. Something that makes both of us halt and freeze entirely.

Children.

-

KURAPIKA:

They lay in small beds, wrapped in green blankets. Five toddlers, blonde, brunette A red-head, sucking her thumb one a near twin for my little brother, or a baby Quoll. I move, stare hungrily through the glass into the room beyond, barely aware of Quoll doing the same. "Oh my God," I whisper.

Behind us, the scientist coughs. "They're three. Not yet old enough to begin training. They laugh, they cry" She moves closer, points at the red-head. "That one abuses her hair color. They. Are. People." Her voice hardens. "And I will _not_ sacrifice them to feed that idiot's ant colony." As I glance her way I see barely controlled emotion in her eyes. Protectiveness. Rage. _Never get between a mother and her children._ I wouldn't have expected it from her. Yet again I find myself in sympathy with someone whom I ought to hate.

"How did you plan on getting them out?" Quoll's voice is cool, detached, but there's an undertone of tension. He feels it too. That need to guard those of our blood. Perhaps his guilt influences that need, perhaps it's just a natural part of him – as it is with me. It doesn't matter. We have to get them out. "I don't deal much with children," he adds, "But I suspect that herding my Ryodan is – marginally – easier than escaping with five toddlers."

"Hey!" Feitan protests and Quoll shoots him a quick grin. "Well okay, I guess we're better than a buncha babies." He settles on a chair. "Anyway, you guys better think up a way out quick, 'cuz we have about an hour to get our collective hind ends out of here before Nobunaga follows your orders."

Our unexpected ally moves to a console, glances at us questioningly and Quoll nods. She presses a few buttons. "Unit 8L. This is Doctor Adams. Has transport been prepared?"

"Affirmative, Doctor Adams." The voice over the speaker is metallic. One of those androids again, I realize. "I have assigned Units 99L and 34L to the task of assisting you. They should be arriving soon, according to my sensors."

"Good. We'll be there soon. With companions. Be ready. The base is going to be under attack within the hour." She signs off, turns to us. "Do what you have to do with the eyes," she tells us. "I _was_ going to destroy them, but since you appear to have other plans, I'll leave them to you. We'll wake the children afterwards. No need to disturb them before it's time to go."

Quoll is already moving. The blanket he uses to shrink things is out and he's headed for the bottles. "Quickly," he tells Feitan and me. "Get them in. I'm just about out of energy." He didn't really need to tell me that. I can see it in the way he's moving, the thin edge of exhaustion that causes his hand holding the book to tremble.

We start moving.

-

QUOLL:

As the last bottle shrinks and Kurapika stores it in a bag, I sit down, heavily, on the floor. "Damn. That's it." It's a fine time for me to be out of _nen_, halfway through our escape, but that's the way it goes. Leaning against the wall, I eye my companions, see worry in both their eyes, and grin. "I'll be able to fight, just not with _nen_," I reassure them. "I'll be fine. Kurapika, will you handle defense while Feitan handles offense?"

"Oh? You bother asking instead of telling? Now I _know_ something's wrong with you," Kurapika answers, as he pulls the bag strap over his head.

"Bite me."

"I'd rather smack you upside the head."

"The two of you stop behaving like little boys. This is serious business." Doctor Adams glares at us, then at Feitan, who is laughing softly in a corner. "Honestly. Men."

I pull myself to my feet. "Right. Enough fun. Let's get the kids and get out of here." As she opens the door to the nursery, I move to join her and Kurapika. Feitan remains where he is, guarding the door, as the three of us enter.

The first one Kurapika goes to is the little black-haired boy. It's not a surprise, the child is near twin to the one my stolen memories tell me was his little brother, Jurik. I _am_ surprised, though, that the thought doesn't send me quite so close to the edge as it has before. Whether it's because Kurapika is a stabilizing influence or because I'm beginning to find my way through the mine-field at long last, I don't know. What I _do_ know is that it's something of a relief.

As Doctor Adams wakes the red-head I bend over another, this one the pale haired blonde. Sleepy black eyes open to meet mine, blinking at me curiously. "Who you, Mithter?"

"My name is Quoll," I tell her, kneeling beside her cot and tugging her, gently, out of bed. I'm not sure how to handle the situation. Explanations would take too long. I can only hope that she cooperates. Then her eyes meet mine and I feel the shock of what lies behind them. They're like mine. "Kurapika? This one will need special care."

He glances my way, sees what I mean. "She's three. I think we'll have time to get her to the Kal before it makes her life miserable." At Doctor Adams' confused murmur, he glances her way. "Quoll's Eyes need special training, Doctor. From what I've been told, you're lucky the Opal Eyes didn't eat all of you alive." He stands, the child in his arms cuddling close, pressing his head up against his shoulder. "This isn't the time to discuss it, though. Come on."

-

KURAPIKA:

The doorway to the hall opens as I'm waking another child, allowing two of the automatons to enter. They barely glance at Feitan where he stands to the side, simply passing through the lab and into the nursery to stand before Doctor Adams.

"Each of you, take two of the children. Our companions will assist in case we are attacked." At my expression, she adds, "Kurota, the automatons are not built for battle. The best they can do is emit a signal to interfere with the thought processes of one subject." I can't help but frown at her wording and she seems to realize why. "I am a scientist, young man. Do not expect me to behave differently."

I sigh. I'm inclined to be angry with her anyway and this simply isn't the time. Instead I carefully transfer my burden over to the automaton nearest me, then hand it another. It is, I am relieved to note, as gentle with the two it holds as I would be.

By the time I'm done, Quoll has given the other automaton two more children. Doctor Adams is still holding the red-head, one hand patting the fussy child gently. It really isn't fair for her to be this way, to make it so hard for me to hate her entirely. Fate is against me, though, forcing me to see as human the people I'd rather think of as two dimensional enemies. Quoll, Adams Feitan. _And who, Kurapika, ever said life was supposed to be fair. Or two dimensional, for that matter?_

Our little troupe makes its way out, moving slowly and as quietly as possible so as not to wake the babies. Every so often we come upon a squad of ants, but even with Quoll's _nen_ exhausted, we are able to take them down. At last we reach our destination, an underground garage, filled with heavy trucks and machinery. More automatons are loading equipment into one truck and Doctor Adams leads us rapidly across to them.

"Greetings, Doctor. All is in readiness." The automaton 8L turns to face us. "Is there anything else you will be requiring?"

She shakes her head. "No, I" Her words are interrupted by Quoll making a sharp, bitter, sound. The sound of a man who has had an expectation fulfilled. As I turn to look in the direction he's watching, I see why. The exit is blocked. Hundreds of chimera, all laying in wait for us. At their lead is someone with the face of a beautiful human woman.

And the body of a monstrous centipede.

To Be Continued.


	18. Chimera

An Amusing Interlude: Part 18 - Chimera - In which battle lines are drawn and much blood (and ichor) is spilled  
By  
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine more's the pity.

* * *

QUOLL:

"Quoll?"

I glance Kurapika's way. "Yes?"

"Stay with the children."

I feel my brows shoot up several inches. I've heard that tone before but haven't had it used on me in over a decade. The voice of command, the voice that expects to be obeyed. I'm torn between annoyance and amusement at Kurapika's using it on me. I also have to acknowledge that he's right. I'm out of _nen_, nearly falling on my face from exhaustion. There's only one thing I could do right now to help and using my Eyes right now would be a Very Bad Idea. "Yes, mommy," I answer.

Kurapika glares at me, then turns to Feitan. "I'm not your boss, I don't want to be your boss. However, under the circumstances... will you listen to me?"

Dark eyes flick my way and somewhere beneath the cool, business-like shell I see the glimmer of the real Feitan. "Yes, mommy," he answers and I know that beneath his veil there's a teensy little smirk. Kurapika makes a disgusted noise as he turns to face the Chimera ants.

A memory of another long-ago fight causes me to add, "Kurapika. If it looks like Feitan's going berserk... get the hell out of Dodge." I ignore the glare Feitan gives me - it embarrasses him that he loses control so thoroughly when he uses his full power - and Kurapika frowns, then nods. His expression is puzzled, though and I add, "I'll explain later. He's not safe in that state. Even the Eyes wouldn't be able to fight him. Don't try. Feitan, I just found a brother. I'd like to keep him a little while longer."

Feitan rolls his eyes as he nods. He knows as well as I do the damage his _nen_ can do when he releases it entirely. "You just get yourself and those kids out of here," is all he says, however. They turn to face the Chimera Queen and I back away.

Turning to Doctor Adams I gesture. "Get into the truck. I'll drive." The way I'm feeling, that's risky too, but we're going to need someone experienced in escapes. I sincerely doubt the good Doctor has much talent in that direction. "8L, I need you and your fellows to interfere as much as possible with any chimera that come near us."

The automaton's head quirks sideways and it stares blankly at me, then at Doctor Adams. At her nod, it answers me, "Yes, unit Q013."

"Call me Quoll," I grumble, climbing into the driver's seat while Doctor Adams climbs in back with the children. The automatons, except for 8L, climb in with her while their leader takes the seat beside me. "Hang onto your hats. This is going to be a rough ride."

"I'm not wearing a hat, Quoll," the automaton notes dryly.

If I didn't know better I'd think it was amused. On second thought, though, maybe it is. I don't know what went into their creation. Maybe there's more to them than just a collection of bits and bytes in the brain. Speaking of which... "In that case, hold onto your head."

oOo

KURAPIKA

The Chimera Queen is big but her movements are swift. From a distance one could imagine her as simply a very large centipede crawling on wall, rapidly shifting from one position to another. In a way, there's a certain beauty to the motion, a smooth sinuous grace that a ballet dancer would envy. Unfortunately, those elegant movements never stray far from the doorway, which means Feitan and I have to get her out of Quoll's way if the van is going to make it out of here in one piece.

"I don't suppose that chain you used to wrap Quoll up would help here?" Feitan's voice has a doubtful tone, as if he considers it a vain hope. Rightly so, too. I don't even have to shake my head as he muses, "I haven't seen you use it since we started. So it has to be useless here."

"The other chains will have to do," I answer grimly and he nods.

He slices the head off an attacking ant, cutting the cuddly kitten face straight off the turtle body, even as I use one of my chains to knock another ant into a group of its fellows. They're gathering closer now and behind me I can hear the van's engine revving up. "Give me some space," I tell Feitan, who flashes out of sight amid a crowd of ants almost before I can make out his nod.

I start spinning, chains swirling around me. Ants go flying and the sound of crunching chitin fills the air. Then there's a clear space and I start running, sweeping the chains in a barely controlled figure eight, sweeping more of my enemies away. "We have to get her attention," I yell in the general direction of the blur that is flashing through the rank and file, leaving bleeding corpses behind it. "Get her away from the door!"

"On it!" Feitan calls back, though his tone tells me that he considers the order entirely too obvious for words. I can't blame him for the reaction. I'd feel much the same if our positions were reversed and he were bossing me around. Yet we have to work together on this. There's no way we can take the Queen on if we don't.

Behind us, the van's engine revs more loudly and I can hear the sound of squealing tires. At first I think Quoll's found an opening, then I realize that his patience is apparently at an end. He's simply running over whatever ants get in his way. I sigh inwardly. When did _he_ become the impetuous one, anyway? I just hope he knows what he's doing.

oOo

QUOLL:

"Do you know what you're doing?"

I spin the wheel, crushing about twenty ants beneath the van. "No. But we can't afford to sit still. If we let those things cover us..." Before I can say another word there's a thump on the top of the van and a familiar face peers down at me through the driver's window. Her claws are buried in the metal of the van and the smile on her face is pert and entirely too pleased with herself. I'm not particularly surprised when the catgirl ant lowers herself further and drives her fist through the windshield.

There are screams behind me now, the children are awake. "Not nice," I tell my uninvited passenger as I dodge sideways. "You woke the babies."

She grins even more broadly, even as Doctor Jones yells at me to be more careful, "You're going to get us killed!" Her shout just upsets the children more and I can feel the result. They're young, inexperienced and their Ruby Eyes aren't very powerful, but in combination the force is intense and growing stronger. Worse, my little cousin, the one with the Opal Eyes, is becoming a real danger. I can feel the energy within them growing, combining with that of her brothers and sisters, trying to connect with my Eyes. "...oh my god..." Jones gasps as the energy grows to the point that even a normal human can sense it. It's all I can do to block it.

I flip out my _benz_ knife, trying to score a shot on the cat girl. She's quick, though and I'm not in a good position for any sort of fighting. I'm close to turning the van over in my attempt to control the wheel, keep us moving _and_ stab at the chimera ant struggling to grab at me. Beside me, number 8L is grasping at her, blocking her swiping claws and getting ripped up for its pains. Not even his metal body is immune to the things.

"meow You will stop and submit." Her tone says that she doesn't really care whether or not we do. Probably because we're just as useful to the ants dead as we are alive. No, more so because then they won't have to do anything more than chunk the remains up to make a meal for their oversized Queen. I ignore her suggestion, spinning the wheel and taking out another rank of ants as we get closer to the exit. _She_ is still there. Still waiting and blocking our exit.

oOo

KURAPIKA

I feel the children's fear as a sick ache behind my eyes and my own power tries to respond. I can't permit it to, though. It's agony to deny them the comfort of a link, but they're too young to do so safely. Back at home, with more adults to guide matters, it wouldn't be a danger but here, with only myself and Quoll within range, their fear and anger would take over the gestalt that would form.

Worse, with Quoll so badly trained, so utterly unable to control his Eyes, such a gestalt would go completely out of control. Through our link I can feel him struggling to block it out, to keep himself separate from what's going on. I've taught him some blocking over the last few days we were together but there's only so much you can do in such a short time. I don't want to know what will happen if he falls into the gestalt that forms among our kind when we're in danger. I _am_ fairly sure that - with his mind as messed up as it is from absorbing all those memories - whatever happens won't be good.

"We have to hurry!" I yell at Feitan. "Quoll's going to lose control of his Eyes if this keeps up."

"Right." He startles me, appearing a few feet away in a clear space and dodging my chains as if they aren't there. "That's not good. You're going to have to be more firm with these guys, Kurota. Quit pretending you can fight 'em without killing them."

I want to ignore the little homicidal maniac but I know he's right. I don't like killing, don't want the blood on my hands. Even when I had the leader of my enemies at my mercy I couldn't do what I thought I wanted to do. I say finally, "I can't. No matter how necessary. I can't." I slam my chains into another rank of ants and continue, "For good or ill. I can't." I've past the point where I can judge Feitan and the others for what they are, but I can't change myself that much. "I'll distract her for you."

He just looks at me for a moment, then he's gone, leaving a trail of blood and death behind him. "Hurry then!" he shouts from yards away. "Don't waste time!"

The Queen is watching us both, her long body circling and spiraling, the scorpion sting at her hind end making little darting motions as if she longs to bury it in our bodies. _This isn't going to be easy,_ I think, as I run in her direction.

oOo

QUOLL

Claws rake the side of my face, white hot pain following. I'm too damned slow, too distracted by too many separate requirements. Driving, blocking and fighting at the same time isn't my first choice for entertainment. Nor does it help that all those memories in the back of my mind are trying to escape, struggling for an outlet.

"WOULD ALL OF YOU JUST SHUT UP!" I can't help yelling and I'm not sure if I mean the voices in my head or those around me. More likely all of the above. Jones and the kids are screaming at me and even 8L is making peculiar electrical noises that I sincerely hope don't mean he's about to explode.

"DODGE LEFT!" Jones shrieks and through the rearview mirror I catch a glimpse of an automatic. The sound of it firing deafens me and I'm out of the way only just in time. Cat girl is equally lucky, having dodged to _her_ left. Wonderful. Everyone's trying to get into the act. Which wouldn't be so bad if Jones had any real fighting skills. As it is, the recoil from her weapon causes her to pull the trigger a second time before she can get control of it. I'm just lucky that when I'd dodged I _really_ dodged. The ant that was crawling up the side of the van isn't so lucky, exploding in a blur of fur and blood. Blue blood.

Before I can yell at Jones 8L rips his seat belt off, turns in the seat and takes the gun from her. "Please don't do that, Doctor Jones," it tells her. I'd chuckle but I'm too busy grinding more ants under my wheels and cutting at my opponent. 8L raises his confiscated weapon and fires it straight upwards, the noise deafening me. Still, it has the desired effect - cat girl ant whatever shrieks and falls backwards.

_"WATCH OUT!" _

The voice in my head is hard and angry, filled with a rage that would, had it been up to him, have shredded my mind and soul into splinters. It's a voice I'd stifled over the years, learned to ignore entirely. A voice I hate as much as it hates me.

Sometimes, though, it's necessary to listen to the voices in one's head. I barely manage to spin the wheel in time to avoid the massive stinger driving down at us, striking us in the side and scraping down my door. Then the van is sent spinning, the force of the impact flinging us into the wall and onto its side.

I see stars when my head strikes something hard. Again.

Then I see nothing.

oOo

KURAPIKA

Clawed hands, about eight of them, rip at me, grabbing at my chains and trying to block my attack. She's fast for her size and my tunic is slashed and bloody. I've managed to break a couple of her legs but she has entirely too many left. On her other side, Feitan is a blur of motion, dodging between her children and striking blows that leave trails of ichor dripping down the wall. Unfortunately, it isn't helping with her stinger end. The long spike keeps striking at the helpless van, hammering dents in the roof. It isn't sharp enough or strong enough to pierce the thick metal but if it keeps this up it won't be long before it finds a weak point. The only positive is that the effort distracts her from Feitan and me.

The room is a blur as I'm lifted off my feet and swung around wildly, a puppet on my own chains. Somehow, though, I manage to twist around and pull myself upside down and pulling myself upwards. A flip and another twist and I'm upright again and on her back. She bucks wildly and I realize from her panicked motions that I've managed to land on a spot she can't reach.

Racing up her spine towards her head, I yell at Feitan, "Get ready. I'll keep her distracted!"

He doesn't bother to answer but I can see by the way he's moving that he's heard me. He's altered his course, shifting direction so that he's in front of her. Now she has three different directions to guard and her shriek of fury tells me that she realizes just how much danger she's in. I don't waste time thinking about it. Instead I sling my chains around her neck, dragging her head backwards. Her strength is immense and I can't control her for more than a minute.

A minute, however, is more than enough. Feitan's speed increases to the point that he isn't even a blur. I catch a momentary glimpse of him as he cuts through another rank of chimera ants, then he's beneath the Queen and out of sight. Her scream as his knife rips through her unprotected belly fills the air.

Thrown sideways, I manage to spin around in time to strike the wall feet first, crouching to take the force of the blow then somersaulting onto the ground as _she_ falls with a thud that shakes the room. As I land there's a shocked silence around us. There aren't that many ants left alive. The ones I knocked unconscious, mostly, and a few dozen chimera ants who'd not yet reached us. I turn to them. "I don't want to kill you," I say quietly as Feitan clambers atop the giant corpse. "My companion is a different story. Your choice."

"Funny. I was going to say much the same to you."

I turn, startled, and realize an old man is standing there holding a rifle. Beside him is a more humanoid looking chimera ant, tall and more antlike in its appearance. That alone doesn't stop me in my tracks. Rather it's the slumped figure of my brother that the ant holds in its arms.

"You have slain Mother. But that's all right. Now _I_ am Queen."

oOo

QUOLL:

The fog around me is red and brilliant, the color of my brother's eyes. _My brother's eyes._ Even here, lost in a mist of dreaming, the thought is hard to believe and desperately required. It's in the blood, I think, a need bred into all Kurota. The need for kinship. The need to be part of a group. The need for family. Not for the first time I wish I could have made the others see that. Make them understand. I could bear their memories in my head, I think, if they knew that I'd been drawn to them as a moth to the flame. If they understood that the last thing I'd wanted had been their deaths.

_This is not the time to be hanging around in a stupor, whining over past failures._ I have to wake up, have to get moving again. I don't want to, but if I don't the chances of my ending up on some chimera ant's menu is entirely too high. I struggle against the fog, trying to feel my body, trying to force myself out of this dreamscape.

It almost works. I can feel movement, feel something like plastic against my cheek, something clutching me around the waist. Warmth trickles down my forehead and a dull ache has formed between my eyes. A voice echoes from a distance. "He dies if you so much as move." Then everything but the fog fades away, leaving me lost again.

I know what's happening, but I'm powerless to do anything about it. Captured - again - and held hostage. The voice belonged to the old man who'd I'd met on the plane. _I have _got_ to wake up._ The question was, what exactly was I going to do if I did manage to do so? Out of _nen_, the only thing I have left is my Eyes. My useless, destructive and uncontrolled Eyes. Maybe it's better if I stay this way until it's over? I come to in this state and I'm not going to be able to keep myself from releasing the Eyes on everyone. Kurapika could, I think, rein me in, but it isn't something I want to test.

I need help and there's only one place left to turn. They've been there all along, the voices in my head that I have called memories and tried to avoid. Yet if they are simply memories then they would not show awareness of the world around me, would not respond to what happens. _And if they aren't just memories then they may be the only weapon I have left._

The thought is enough to shift the fog, to form an image of blood-stained ground and far too many men and women. And one child. I'd never tried to look at them before, never tried to face my victims before, but I can see the boy's resemblance to myself and Arrissen in his coloring. Pale skin, black hair and the black eyes that I realize means he had had the Opal Eyes as well, though not yet opened.

"Hi Quoll." Another familiar figure stands across from me holding the tube from a vacuum cleaner, watching the others and blocking them. Small, fragile looking, her dark eyes hidden behind thick glasses. The image is transparent, incomplete, but I know why Shizuka's here. This is the part of her that my mind stole, that day we killed the Kurota. "Are you ready to deal with them?" She waves at the others, receives glares back in return. Her tone is light, as bewildered as the voice of her physical self.

"I don't think I have a choice," I tell her as I walk forward towards the group. "At this point we're all dead and eaten if I don't." I look at the others, searching out their leader. Another skinny old man whose eyes glow with brilliant fury. I'd flinch from the hate but I don't have the luxury of time. "Your choice, _grandfather_. We hang together or we will certainly hang separately."

"Not very apropos," Shizuka protests but I ignore her, watching the old man and waiting. At long last he walks towards me, the glow in his eyes fading. His expression is still angry but it's calmer than it had been. I meet him halfway.

We stare at each other for long minutes. "This is merely a temporary truce," he tells me. "The war is not yet over." At my expression, he glares. "What do you expect? Sweet love for our murderer? Forgiveness? You have held us trapped here for years."

I blink. "Trapped. Held? I don't recollect inviting any of you to stay."

"Then let us go. You hold us as if we were your best beloved, rather than your enemy."

As I stare at him, unable to believe what I'm hearing, another voice speaks. "The Opal Eyes are selfish, possessive. Those they grasp they does not let go." The old woman I know is my father's mother, another of the village Elders and, my mind tells me, the keeper of the records. "They consume all they love and all they hate." She eyes me, then turns to her husband. "We do not have time for this. The danger outside him is too great. Final death might be a release for us, but those chimera ants might gain the Eyes in the process. That cannot be allowed."

The old man looks at me, contempt twisting features I sense would ordinarily be kindly. "Very well. We will help."

"This time."

oOo

KURAPIKA:

The room is silent for a long moment and I wonder desperately what I'm going to do. Glancing sideways at Feitan doesn't help because he looks as helpless as I feel. We're surrounded by ants and one wrong move is going to mean my former enemy and new found brother is dead. _When it comes to that, we're all dead._ I say as much to the scientist, adding, "So there's no point in surrendering, now is there?"

He frowns consideringly, the rifle in his hands unwavering. "We can come to some to some arrangement," he decides. "Some of your genetic material for your freedom. Number Q013 can spare one of his eyes."

Feitan's soft mutter, "And people call the Genei Ryodan bloodthirsty thugs," is just barely audible. I nod slightly at him, though. I don't like their methods. I like this man's intentions and methods even less. He adds, more loudly, "The boss wouldn't agree. So forget it."

The scientist shakes his head. "I had hoped for cooperation. Even when the Eye is bred into my children they will need training in order to use it effectively."

"As with all other things, _my_ children will learn and learn quickly," the ant holding onto Quoll replies. "There is no point in asking for training. These flesh creatures are untrustworthy."

With a growl, the old man spins and glares at the ant. "Don't be cocky. You are the new Queen only by virtue of a twist of fate. Without my aid you..." Whatever he is going to say is lost in a gurgle of blood. There's a squelching sound as his body falls forward, pierced through by the new Queen's right claw.

I don't take time to think about it. I have to protect Quoll from her obvious next move and there's only one way I can do so. My chains fade into visibility. Not one, not ten. Hundreds, twisting out from my hand in a spiral and spinning towards her.

I'm barely in time, for the new Queen takes little time in dropping her other victim to the ground and driving her clawed hand towards Quoll's chest, only to strike _nen_ metal. Chain Jail wraps around my brother, binding itself around his helpless body. Chain after chain, until he's practically mummified. Startled, she raises her head and I use the moment to drag Quoll to me.

"Fool!" she hisses. "You're surrounded. You can't escape us, and you certainly can't save those children." She gestures and I realize that during my distraction with the man she'd killed and rescuing Quoll her ants had been pulling the others from the wrecked van. I'd been blocking them so intently that I hadn't even noticed the children's growing terror. They stare at me, grasped tightly and their fear twists through me.

Before I can speak, before I can act, I feel a flare of power from beside me. Not Feitan, who is crouched on the other side, ready to attack. Not the children.

Quoll.

Quoll and the Opal Eyes.

oOo

QUOLL:

"It isn't going to happen."

The voice is mine. The words are not. The old man has taken over briefly, grasping my mind so tightly that it's all I can do to keep calm. I gave myself over to this. I accepted the risk the moment I accepted his help. "Your kind go so far beyond abomination as to be a blot upon all life itself." My brother stares at me, unable to believe I'm saying something like that. Somehow I force my Self back to the foreground and shrug at him.

She glares at me, myriad eyes gleaming in the light with a green gold sheen. "Your kind have reached the end of your evolution. It is time for a stronger and older race to take your place. My kind have existed for millennia, waiting and watching for our time. That time is now."

"Old age and treachery versus youth and enthusiasm?" I can't help asking. "I prefer youth and treachery, myself." Now Kurapika really stares. "Later, brother. I'm in control... or someone is... don't worry. Just be ready to act."

"You waste time." Again the old man's words come from my throat. "Stop playing, brat."

"Grandfather?" Something about the tone must have been enough to make Kurapika realize who's in here with me. "Is that you?"

"Silence, child. This is not the time."

I ignore both, focusing on the way I'm feeling, on the energies twisting through my head. It's an almost luxurious sensation. All this power and all of it entirely controlled and contained. All without a lick of effort on my part. Somewhere in the back of my mind my 'guests' are putting years of training to work, forcing my Eyes to stay under control, keeping them from devouring everything around me.

I can see patterns of energy around me. Life and minds flowing around their physical forms. _Nen_ energy from my brother and from Feitan. The Ruby and Opal eyes of the children and Kurapika. It's a heady experience. I want to take it all in and make it all mine.

_Stop that this minute, young man._

Grandmother's voice in my head. Stern and unyielding, forcing me to behave. I remember what she said earlier. The Opal Eyes grasp all they love and all they hate. They seek to possess. _Probably why I'm such a good thief,_ I think. I'm essentially a selfish bastard. It doesn't bother me... much... but I do understand that I can't indulge myself. A tiny ache beginning at the back of my eyes tells me I can't afford to waste time playing, either. The voices in my head are helping control things but the strength is mine and it _will_ run out sooner or later.

The patterns around me shift and flow quickly and I can see intentions before the movements. I understand now how Karik was able to evade notice when we were traveling with the Kal. It's both matter of shaping those patterns and simply staying out of them. I don't have the skill to match him in the former, but I can at least read my opponents enough to sense what they plan to do.

It helps that among the energies I see is the communication between the lead chimera ant and her companions. She's not as completely in control as she'd like to think. The death of her predecessor came too soon and she's too young. Too inexperienced to maintain dominance on creatures that have lost their queen and over two thirds of their army. They are frightened, unsure and distrustful of her youth. Some will obey her because they are accustomed to obedience. Others would prefer it if she simply negotiated a way out of the situation.

I smile to myself. This can work to our benefit.

oOo

KURAPIKA:

Quoll's eyes burn hot, blazing with the same fire that had devastated Neon's men weeks earlier. Yet, despite this, I don't feel the rage I did that night, don't feel the urge to rip him to pieces. Whether it's our link or the fact that he seems to be in control isn't clear. Nor does it matter. Our link strengthens, a solid base that is strangely comforting.

:_I'm going to get the children. Follow me. Feitan will handle the others._:

I force myself not to move a muscle as I acknowledge Quoll's mental order. I'm not sure what he's planning on doing. Nor am I sure how it is that my grandfather's words were coming out of his mouth. What I _do_ know is that this simply isn't the time to argue or demand explanations.

There's a flicker beside me and for a moment it seems as if Quoll has disappeared. Then I catch glimpse of him a few feet away, only to lose track of him again. _What the..._ It isn't the same thing that Feitan does. It isn't _nen_ at all. Then I remember the Opal Eyed Kal and realize that Quoll has somehow managed to figure out how to do the same thing. He's dodging and weaving, practically dancing his way across the floor between us and the children. He's there in seconds, almost before Feitan and I can react.

:_You are going to owe me a whole library of explanations,_: I tell him and only receive mental chuckles in response. The ants are moving, panicked and startled at the way one of their enemies has disappeared. Feitan, who certainly didn't expect Quoll's move, doesn't hesitate a minute. Body blurred with the speed at which he moves, he leaves bleeding corpses behind him as he races for the new Queen.

My chains whirl around me and I head for the children and Jones. My movements distract the ants as Quoll flips behind them, his _benz_ blade flicking them one by one. Three of them stiffen and fall but two seem immune to the poison.

:_No surprise, that,_: Quoll thinks at me as I send my chains flying at those two. :_The poison's intended for standard neural systems._: I don't bother to respond, though he chuckles as he senses my reaction. It's not as if I couldn't figure _that_ out after all.

The children and Jones stare up at us as we come to a momentary halt. "Stay here," I tell them. "We'll finish this and get out."

oOo

QUOLL:

My head is aching seriously, now and it occurs to me that I'm going to pay dearly for this exercise. Still, it won't be much longer. Feitan has wiped most of the remaining ants and is caught up in a dance of death with the Queen. :_Shall we gang up? Or are we the good guys?_: I ask Kurapika.

:_Does it matter?_: He's moving already and I follow, using my _benz_ knife to drop a few more ants as we pass. I grin at his grim tone. He takes things so very solemnly. :_And you're not taking it seriously enough,_: he adds, clearly aggravated at my response. It only amuses me more.

We're on the Queen then, forcing her to protect herself on three fronts. Kurapika's chains bash her chitin, break limbs. My knife's poison doesn't affect her, unfortunately, but between it and Feitan's, we score cuts that seep green blood all over the place. Every so often one or the other of us is forced to change our target when one of the few ants still brave enough to approach attacks.

She's a strong fighter, I'll give her that. Still, the effort to control her kin distracts her and having to deal with three separate attacks is more than she can manage. She falters, stumbles and finally falls. She does not, even then, scream for mercy. Which is something of a relief because I'm not sure we could afford to offer it. It's easier for Kurapika not to be forced to make such a hard choice.

The surviving ants run for it and Feitan starts to follow. I stop him. "No time for stragglers. We have to get out, now. The room is blurring and I stumble as it seems to spin around me. There's a buzz in my ears and burning pain in the middle of my forehead. "H...u..rry."

"Quoll?"

I - sort of - feel Kurapika catching me. Almost feel him hoist me over his shoulder. Almost hear him telling Feitan to get moving.

Then blood red fog surrounds me again.

_Oh goodie. Nap time again._

To Be Continued.


	19. Chess

An Amusing Interlude: Part 19: Chess - In which a last battle is waged and an ending is reached.  
By  
Deborah (Kosagi) Brown

Hunter X Hunter is copyright Yoshihiro Togashi. Quoll and Kurapika aren't mine… more's the pity.

Note: All author's notes are being made in my LiveJournal, under the name KosagiNoLegion. I'd put the URL here, but Fanfiction Net in its infinite wisdom regards such as a sin against their coding. Just search for me by the above name and all will be well.

* * *

KURAPIKA: 

"How is he doing?"

"The same."

"When is he going to wake up?"

"I don't know."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because, _why?_"

"Because I don't."

"WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?"

I get out of my chair. Fling open the door and glare at the two men in the other room. "Nobunaga? Father?" Two pairs of eyes turn to me and I very carefully continue, "Would the two of you please stop arguing about Quoll before I let Feitan do what he's been wanting to do to the two of you for the last half hour?" I close the door as quietly as possible as they get identical expressions of panic on their faces.

As he takes the thermometer from Quoll's lips and examines it, Feitan remarks, "I'm fairly sure I can't drop kick them to the moon."

"They don't have to know that. How is he?"

There's a moment's pause as Feitan eyes me, a look of humor crossing his narrow features and I don't really need him to say, "Do I need to drop kick you, too?" to know what he's thinking.

Grimacing, I go over to the sink in the bathroom and soak another towel. "You just took his temperature," I point out and he nods. "So?" It took me over a week to recover from _my_ overuse of the Eyes. It's been twice that and the fever has only dropped to normal today. I sit across from Feitan and exchange the towel on his forehead for the new, wet one, in my hand.

"It's still normal," Feitan tells me, putting the thermometer away and stretching. "No sign of reaction though." He eyes me and I know what he's thinking. We've been discussing my using the link, off and on, for the last hour or so. I don't want to do it. Not just because I don't like fiddling around in someone else's head but because I'm very worried about what I'm going to find inside Quoll's. Given the way things were going just before he lost consciousness, the mess in his mind could be entirely out of control. _And beyond my ability to stop. _

I look at my brother and sigh. Pale, a bit drawn, the usually sardonic expression wiped away, he looks younger than I do. Oddly, though, aside from that he doesn't look all that different from normal. Now that the fever has broken, he just looks like he's lazing about. Which is, when I think about it, a very typical state of affairs for Quoll. There's something very essentially lazy in my brother. A dislike of hard work that probably has a lot to do with his methods and attitudes.

And it's high time I kicked him back into motion.

_**.oOo.**_

QUOLL:

It's a stalemate. They stand around me, blocking my escape, unable to approach and entirely unwilling to let me go. My father's tribe. My victims. The minds that I have stolen, each and every one filled with hatred for me and ready to destroy if they had the power.

They don't. Destroy me and they destroy themselves. They've tried that before, attacking my mind from within when I'd first taken them. Only the realization that as they killed me they were destroying themselves made them stop. That and my one ally in this madness, Shizuku, are my only defenses. A small piece of her mind is bound to mine and she has long protected me from their efforts to break me. Even as she guards my back from them now.

I gaze at the crowd, at dozens of Ruby Eyes glaring at me. "None of us have to rest," the old man who I know to be Kurapika's and my grandfather tells me. "This can go on until your body is too weak to ever wake up."

I gaze at him as levelly as I can. "True enough. _Grandfather_. Just one question, though. What happens to all of you when I die?" He clenches his fist, stepping towards me, only to stop at the edge of the 'force field' my mind has created to protect its central Self. Here in this place one is only limited by one's imagination. _And I have quite a bit of that._ "I don't have to rest in here anymore than you do. And while I'm outnumbered, this body, this mind belongs to me first and foremost. So what do you propose to do, when I can do this?"

The shift in our reality is startling, even though I both expected and intended it. We stand amid the stars themselves, no up, no down. Flashes of his lightning combine with flares of light that surround us all. Back and forth the images twist and change. Light from his hand tries to lance its way past my barrier. Darkness tries to swallow him up, only to be blasted away. He growls a curse, still stymied by my defenses, struggling to impose his own will on my mental landscape. A thick fog surrounds us, its odor sickening and I have to quickly shift a wind to push it aside, revealing what he'd hidden beneath. Bodies surround us, long dead and rotting, each one missing its eyes.

"YOUR FAULT, ABOMINATION! YOUR FAULT!"

Somewhere, someone screams, a child's cry, and I start, turning to look in that direction. Three have remained aloof from our battle, an old woman, a younger woman whose resemblance to Kurapika is such that I know whom she must be, and, finally a little boy who is pressing his face into his mother's gown. Kurapika's little brother Jurik. _And mine._ The realization shakes me. He looks so small and scared that the only thing I feel is rage at the one who frightened him.

Angrily, I grasp for control and find it, forcing the landscape into something much more innocent. A sunny clearing surrounded by trees and filled with soft breezes. Not the sort of place I like, but I know it from Kurapika's thoughts and am sure that it will calm my littlest brother's fears for the moment. It works, I can hear him sobbing a bit, but it's just the quiet sobs of a child being calmed. "Enough," I growl, stepping forward until I'm practically nose to nose with the old man. "That is _quite_ enough."

"I agree." The old woman walks forward, her fellow Kurota making way for her, her expression so like Kurapika's when he's particularly out of sorts with me that it's a bit of a shock to realize its aimed not at me but at my Grandfather. "Old man, you go entirely too far. What is the point of this battle? What do you expect to accomplish. Destroy his mind and we are lost as well."

"Old woman." He draws himself up and glares at her, "What would you have us do? He is our killer. He deserves..."

"To die? For what? For being born? For having sought us out when it's in our blood to do so? For being unable to control the Opal Eyes?" Her words echo my own internal rage and I'm afraid I cannot help but gape at her in astonishment. Kurapika was able to come to that understanding, yes, but she is one of the ones I killed. Understanding from one of my actual victims is something I am not ready for. She turns on me then, "As for you, for all your vaunted intelligence, Lucifer Quoll, you would have been wiser to learn the lay of the land before you presented yourself to us."

I bow my head, acknowledging the justice of that accusation. I should have. Had I come to the Kurota for any other reason than to seek out my blood I _would_ have found out everything I could about them first. Would have learned every detail of their culture I could. I certainly did so when I stole the secrets of _nen_ from the Zoldyk family all those years ago. I've cursed my stupidity a thousand times. "Yes, Grandmother."

"Don't play the fool, boy." Once more she returns her attention to my Grandfather. "So, old man? What exactly _have _you accomplished with this? The situation remains unchanged. What good are you going to do by destroying his mind? Do you think we can take over? You know it's not possible." His eyes demand she be silent, but she continues. "We depend on him for our existence. So make up your mind, old man. Find a way to come to terms. And quickly, because if his body dies, we all die."

The old man gives me a long, considering look. "We could toss a coin," he offers sourly. "Winner takes all."

Returning the look, with interest, I shake my head. "If that's the only way you're willing to go," I tell him, "Then I refuse to base it on luck. Besides, you'd just claim I cheated and made the coin go the way I wanted." From his expression I'm right. He only made the suggestion to see how I would react to it - or possibly even to see if I'd think of it. I cock my head at him. "I don't suppose you play chess?"

_**.oOo.**_

KURAPIKA:

I'm not sure how long it takes for me to make my way along the link between Quoll and myself. Things are different this time. His mind isn't even remotely aware of mine and he isn't projecting the chaos of his nightmares on me in the process. The trail isn't difficult to follow, though. Having walked it before, I know the way. Oh, it doesn't look the same, but I know it anyway, can feel traces of my previous passage. I'd be relieved at the lack of reaction from Quoll, if it didn't mean he might be in trouble.

At last I step into a strangely familiar clearing. It takes me a minute to recognize it but when I do, it's something of a shock. There's a large tree at the center, twin to the one destroyed when Quoll saved me from those androids. Sunlight streams thru the branches of that tree and the sound of birds echo softly. There's a pleasant scent from the small flowering bushes surrounding the area and a soft breeze ruffling my hair.

At the center of the clearing are people. Dozens of them, all sitting and gazing at a small building, a kind of gazebo whose filmy curtains partially conceal two figures facing each other. I'm distracted from wondering about this as I realize _who_ these people are. My tribe, each and every one of them. The ones I buried, so long ago. All apparently alive and well.

I can't help but stand and stare. I'm stunned beyond measure and more than a bit angry at Quoll for creating this image. Then I realize that he isn't, that what he and I had both thought were just memories stolen as his mind killed our kinfolk were something more. Is it just their minds or their very souls within this place? And can one truly separate the two?

A dark haired figure, small and very fast on his feet, whams into me then and distracts me from my confusion. "Jurik?" My arms go around him automatically and for a moment I'm grasped in a hug so tight that I can barely breathe, or whatever it is that one does when one is existing within someone else's mental landscape. I finally detach him and gaze into his face. So young, so very young. Exactly the same as he was the day I left home for my training. His eyes, as wide and dark as Quoll's, gaze up at me worriedly and I touch his face, having trouble believing what I'm seeing. "Little brother. It's good to see you."

He squeezes me again, then manages a worried grin. "Big brother, I'm so glad you're here. I've missed you so much." At my nod, he continues, "Mama's over here. Come on!" His hand drags me forward and the next thing I know she's there, holding me.

I could stay this way forever, I think. Bury myself in the comfort of my mother's love and never ever come up for air again. Except I'm a big boy now and I can't. Still, I indulge myself somewhat, allowing her to hold me close for several minutes before I finally straighten. "What's going on? Why are all of you here?" I hesitate to ask where Quoll is. I don't want to cause my people pain, nor send them into a fit of rage that neither Quoll nor I would survive.

Mother smiles, sadly. "Your brother is with your Grandfather," she tells me. "In there. As for why we're here, I think you know the answer to that already."

"They're fighting on the board with the funny men, big brother," Jurik tells me. "I'm scared. If Biggest brother wins, will he throw us all out? What happens to us?" The question scares me. I've just found them again, even if these are just pale shadows, ghosts who _should_ be allowed to rest, I don't _want_ to lose them. I pick Jurik up and carry him to the building, stepping thru the curtains and into a softly lit room where Quoll and Grandfather are bent over a chessboard. My mother has followed us and standing across from us is my Grandmother. All my family is here, except my father.

Grandmother gives me a warning look and I nod, handing Jurik back to our mother. I'm not sure exactly what's going on but I have a feeling I would be making a mistake to interfere. Instead I watch the game, puzzled over the situation but willing to wait and see. Looking at the two men, I am unsurprised to note Quoll's apparent disinterest, if not positive boredom with the game, compared with my Grandfather's intensity.

Watching the two play is something of an education for me. I've played chess, I even like the game, but this game is like nothing I've ever seen before. Quoll's moves are unexpected, made with an almost lackadaisical casualness. He spends little time contemplating, simply shifts his men from square to square in what seems like a random pattern. With anyone else, I'd think he was just being stupid. Having come up against his tactics before, I know he isn't.

At the same time Grandfather plays aggressively. His pieces thrust and parry in an intricate but controlled fashion that is easier for me to understand. He's attacking the stronger points in order to weaken them, trying to put Quoll on the defensive. It's a tactic that appears to be working. His chessmen are scattered everywhere and while they make half-hearted attempts to block my Grandfather's moves Quoll seems to much prefer to keep them on the move.

Over and over again Grandfather comes close to putting Quoll in check, only to have my brother slip easily out of the net. Over and over again Quoll shifts his men, his king included, all over the board. That last is particularly odd. I'm relatively sure one isn't supposed to use the king as a threat, that one is supposed to keep the king guarded throughout the game. It hits me, though, that this is very much in character for Quoll. No pieces in his game is more important than another and each serves a purpose. At one point he sacrifices the queen, only to restore her with a pawn that has managed to make its way across the battlefield.

Then Grandfather straightens and smiles coldly into my brother's face. "Check," he says, triumphantly and I realize that there are only a few limited moves Quoll can make to protect himself. Moves that will, almost certainly, still lead to checkmate.

Except there's one move I've missed. Putting Quoll into check has opened up a single chink in Grandfather's defense. A chink that Quoll takes immediate and swift advantage of as his queen both blocks the check on his piece and, disastrously for my Grandfather, puts his king in danger. A danger I suddenly realize he can't escape, because Quoll's knight is lying in wait, just at the borders of Grandfather's defense.

"And checkmate," Quoll answers, quietly.

_**.oOo.**_

QUOLL:

The old man stares down at the chessboard, expression disbelieving. To be honest, I'm not exactly sure I believe it myself. We've been playing for what seems like hours, Grandmother watching us as if it were a matter of life and death. Which it is, in a way.

"You cheated," he accuses and I shake my head. "Then how?"

"You're Kurapika's grandfather. You and he share certain traits." I eye him, watchful for signs that he will react badly, half expecting it. Knowing him for a real person has shifted balance of power inside my head and if I am not careful it will be the end of me. Had I realized that the minds I'd stolen were more than mere collections of memories I would have taken action much sooner, worked harder to rid myself of them. _Or would I?_

He frowns, puzzling over that and finally, as if the words are forced from him, "What does that mean?"

Now that's funny. Does he really expect me to explain myself? He's been in my head for a while now, watching, angrily trying to make his way past my one loyal guard, and I would have thought, at least somewhat aware of how I think. Not to mention the things I do _not_ do. He seems to realize the futility of asking and leans back, eyeing me with the same considering gaze that I sometimes see on Kurapika's face. Then he turns his gaze back towards the board and I can see him analyzing the game, thinking over where he might have gone wrong.

"Your defense was... unusual," he says finally. "No. It was non-existent. I didn't expect you to bring your king out into the field in that manner." His eyes rise to meet mine. "You counted on my anger at you to drive my play. You put your king in danger simply to draw that anger out and force me into foolish actions." He considers the matter further. "A trick that will only work once."

I shrug. "I don't recall this being a question of more than once," I tell him. "Are you asking for best two out of three?" If he is, I will have to - regretfully - decline. On one hand, I enjoy a good game of chess. On the other, I see no reason to risk a loss if I don't need to. "The agreement was one game and one game only. I win and you lose." The bargain goes further than that and I should be claiming my victory, my head cleared of these other minds, yet somehow I can't bring myself to do so. _What is wrong with me? _

My grandfather considers the board again. "If my play was like Kurapika's then yours explains quite a bit as well." Now I shift uncomfortably, not at all sure what he's getting at and absolutely sure I don't want him analyzing me thru the game. "You use all your men carefully, block where you can, take where you have to. You sneak around the board, shifting focus without regard to a piece's traditional purpose. You sneak up on your opponent in as many different directions as you can and you place yourself in danger simply to focus attention away from your other pieces. You make an advance look like a retreat. You used my own moves against me and made me think I had you on the run throughout the game." He counts the number of pieces I've lost versus his. "You avoid taking when it's not necessary. Even when I deliberately offered pawns to sacrifice, you refused to take the bait. I think that you abhor waste, both of time and energy. Possibly even of lives - if they may be of use to you later. You trapped my King with my own men."

Carefully, I avoid allowing any of what I'm feeling or thinking to show on my face. Despite - or perhaps, because of - this he nods. "You're your father's son. Had I known that, I think I would have taken greater care with you when you put yourself in my path."

The question is unavoidable. "Greater care in killing me? Or greater care in dealing with me as I am?" From his expression, I know the answer and I cannot help but say, bitterly, "Haven't you ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy?"

"And what, pray tell, could we have done differently? Allowed our tribe to be destroyed?"

A new voice speaks. "Why don't you ask the Kal that, grandfather?" I raise my head, startled by the interruption and realize that we have company. _Kurapika._

_**.oOo.**_

KURAPIKA:

Both men look at me, Quoll with a look that shifts from a moment of surprise to a kind of wry amusement. Grandfather's expression is harder to recognize. He's had years of practice in hiding his opinions and I never have been able to read him. It occurs to me that all of them, from Grandfather to Arissen to Quoll, are given to a kind of twist in the thoughts that constantly analyzes, constantly finds the best advantage to a situation and uses it without hesitation. Honesty forces me to admit that there is much of that in myself for that matter. I would not sacrifice my friends to gain the advantage but in many ways I am the same.

"The Kal," Grandfather repeats. "What of them? They sacrificed their very nature in order to avoid the prophecy."

"And survived because of it, old man." This is my grandmother speaking and in her I see a great similarity with the old woman who leads the Kal. Her hand caresses my cheek gently as she looks up at me. "You've gotten big, boy. And strong. It's good to see you."

"Is that the best you can say, old woman?" Grandfather demands. "The boy is siding with this..." Words fail him momentarily but the look he shoots Quoll would have sent me hiding under my bed when I was a child. Quoll is probably more used to such looks, however, and leans back in his chair with an insouciant and insolent air that is guaranteed to anger our Grandfather all the more.

I glare at my brother as well, annoyed at his deliberate effort to push our grandfather's buttons. . Beside me, Jurik squeezes my hand, looking up at me nervously. "Brother? Are we going to have to go away then?"

Our brother has the grace to look embarrassed when I turn and look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Well?" he asks, "What am I supposed to do? Make them a spa in here?" He gestures outside at the clearing and all the Kurota watching us, "It was one thing when I thought they were just memories. Quite another to know there are other people in here. I don't _need_ this. I don't need them in my head, watching everything I do, hating me and tangling my thoughts with that hate."

Eying my Grandfather, I notice him shifting nervously at Quoll's words and it occurs to me that he is well aware that Quoll is not the only one at fault here. "You have to grant," I tell him, "that they didn't ask to be stuck in here. Any more than you intended to stick them." For a moment his eyes meet mine, then fall away. He knows as well as I do that this isn't a situation anyone specifically asked for. "You have to come to terms. Not play stupid chess games so you can figure out which of you is sneakier."

_**.oOo.**_

QUOLL:

The expression on our Grandfather's face is, I suspect, similar to my own. Surprise, mixed with chagrin, that Kurapika has managed to figure out what's really going on beneath the surface. "At least he isn't accusing us of trying to prove who has more in their pants," I mutter and our Grandfather nods ruefully. For a moment I feel a greater kinship with him.

"It really is time for the two of you to stop playing," Grandmother says finally. "Quoll can't stay like this for very much longer. If we are to come to terms it must be now."

Kurapika nods agreement. "I'm sure the game helped you to get to know each other." I blink at that and shoot a sharp look at our Grandmother, seeing bland innocence that I cannot entirely trust. So _that's_ what this was about. I'm not sure I'm pleased at the thought. I don't like people knowing too much of how I think. Kurapika ignores my reaction, continuing, "Now it's time to start thinking about how to make this work. Before I drop kick both of you to the moon."

Grandfather stares at my brother as if he's gone mad. I realize Kurapika had gotten that particular phrase from Feitan. He only uses it when particularly aggravated and I wonder what's going on outside my head to annoy my compatriot. "Nobunaga?" I ask, because it usually is.

"Nobunaga." Kurapika leans on the railing around the porch, the little boy I know must be our younger brother imitating him in a way that makes me feel strangely fond of both. "Now. Talk it out."

I sigh, the problem is that I have no idea what to do. To be honest, even if I really truly wanted to throw them out of my head, I couldn't do it because I don't know how. _And Jurik is right to be afraid. What happens to them if I do send them away? Where do they go?_ It's a question I can't answer and I say as much. "If you were just memories I could just wipe you away. At the same time, I can't... no, I will _not_ let you control my life."

"None of us want to control you."

"Then what _do _you want?" The sudden question seems to startle him and I shrug, rather relieved that he hadn't expected the reaction. "My cards on the table, Grandfather. I want peace of mind. I want to be able to think about what I did to you without your minds raging at me and sending me berserk. I want to live without having to be constantly in control of not just my Eyes but of every thought I have, of every emotion I feel. Just once I'd like to blow up at Nobunaga without being afraid of turning his brains to mush. I'm willing to make concessions to get those things. What are you willing to do for what you want?"

Grandfather's mouth opens and closes a few times before he finally says, "What if what we want is your death?" His tone is more curious than accusatory, though and I refuse to take offense.

"Not part of the package, Grandfather," I tell him. "And if that was your real desire, you would have killed me long ago, when this first happened." They'd had the chance in those first few days between my murder of the tribe and my regaining control of my mind. If they'd really, truly, wanted to destroy me that would have been the time. If they'd been just memories they could not, of course, have acted. They weren't and because they weren't, I know they had to have made a conscious choice to let me live. _Even if they also made the choice to make me as miserable as possible in the process._

He considers my answer then sighs. "Some of us don't want to be here and are more than willing to be allowed to go. Others... What will you give for those things you ask for?"

Now it's my turn to hesitate, reminded of Grandmother's description of the Opal Eyes. "I don't know _how_ to let them go," I say softly. "I can't do it without help. As for what I'll give... I'm not even sure I can give anything." I'd bargain for a better deal but I'm beginning to realize that any deal I offer is going to be limited by my lack of skills in this area.

Fortunately, Kurapika has more sense than I do on the matter. "You've made this place," he says quietly. "You don't have to make it a spa, but if you made it a reasonably comfortable place to 'live'..." He glances at Grandmother, questioningly. "Can't he? Will that be enough?"

She nods and suggests quietly, "Allow some of us interaction with the outside world, once in a while." I realize that - if I accept - I'm going to be agreeing to a kind of multi-personality disorder. Something of my reaction must show in my face because she adds, "At your convenience, not ours."

"Don't coddle the boy," Grandfather growls and she shakes her head. "This isn't a game."

"Oh yes, and play games of chess with this annoying old man to keep him out of my hair." She gives me a direct look, ignoring her husband's grumbles. "If you fear to trust, you need not. I think you know that you can harm all of us far more readily than we can harm you. Though it might cost you your sanity to try."

I can't help asking, "And how do you know you can trust _me_? I'm not entirely sure I can lay claim to sanity. What's to stop me from trying to destroy you the hard way?"

She shakes her head. "Lucifer, your own actions here prove that we need not fear that. You have every reason to be angry with us. Little reason to accept us. Yet you have not truly fought to destroy us. Even when you thought we were only memories you desired merely to be at peace with us, not wipe us out of existence." She reaches out and takes Jurik into her arms. "Then there is this one. In a moment of danger, when we fought you, this one's fear made you stop."

I blink at her as she continues, "You have always sought a family, Lucifer. You hold onto us because, in the depths of your Self, that is still your greatest desire. That is why I trust you and why I believe you won't seek to destroy us." She cocks her head at me and I'm surprised to recognize the gesture as my own. "So, grandson. Is it a deal?"

I smile ruefully, sensing that, in a lot of ways I've been manipulated to this point. Or, perhaps, I've been manipulating things this way as well. It's hard to tell, as tangled up as everything's become. Still, there's not much else I can say except, "Yes. It's a deal."

_**.oOo.**_

KURAPIKA:

The children are playing. Five smalls and three large. Rather to my amusement, the larger ones are having trouble keeping up with the little ones. _Though I suspect that's deliberate. There's no way they'd be able to outrun Feitan unless he's letting them._ A ball bounces our way and I kick it back to Quoll. He gives me a quick grin and returns to the fray, only to be taken down by three of our small kinfolk.

"You know," I say to the man sitting beside me, "Two months ago I would have broken somebody's nose for suggesting that I'd be watching Quoll Lucifer and two of his Ryodan playing with Kurota children and _enjoying_ it." Of course, there's a fair amount I wouldn't have believed, two months ago. Traveling with the murderer of my people, discovering him to be one of my own kind, to be my own brother? Those alone had been shock enough. Now I have a father again, and small cousins who - if not born in a natural way - are as normal a set of three year olds as one might wish for.

Arissen smiles wryly at my comment. "It _is_ strange," he agrees. "The question is, what do we do now? Those children will have to be protected, and I'm afraid Doctor Jones isn't in a position to do so. Not just herself and one automaton."

Doctor Jones looks up from a technical manual. "I'd be offended if it weren't for the fact that I fear you're right. At this point, the children will be safer as far from me as possible. The question is, where should they go?"

There's no need to think hard about the answer. "We'll take them to the Kal. Then get away from them ourselves. Since they're children, the Kal will be able to train them properly. After that," I eye my brother as he somersaults over Nobunaga and kicks the ball into the goal. "Someone else needs training. We can't depend on his mental guests to keep his Eyes under control. Father? Will you help us with that?"

Arissen nods agreement. "It's high time I did something more than be the one providing you and Lucifer's genes." He considers the matter. "We'll find someplace remote for that, I think. The less chance of interference, the better."

The decision made, I rise from my chair. We'll have to get moving soon, but for now I'm content to let my brother and the rest of my young kinfolk enjoy themselves. _Not to mention myself,_ I add as I leap over the fence into the play yard and join the game.

_**.oOo.**_

QUOLL:

"No. I'm _not_ going to go back to Star City." My tone is flat and final. As firm as I can make it because it's the only way to make Nobunaga listen.

"But..."

"I'm going to be training with Kurapika and Arissen, Nobunaga. That means that my Eyes might put anyone in the area at risk. Do _you_ want to be just as brainless as Shizuku?" A voice in my head protests and I sigh. "Yes, I know. It's not brainlessness. Be quiet, Shizuku." I'm almost getting used to the voices in my head but it can get aggravating at times. Particularly since the most guilty party is my own ally. "Besides, I don't want Hisoka to find out I'm free of the Judgment chain until I'm good and ready for him. I go back to Star City for any length of time he's going to figure out that there's something screwy going on."

"Besides," Feitan adds, as he slings his backpack over his shoulder and prepares to head off in his own direction, "Since when do we hang out with each other when there isn't a job?"

Nobunaga mutters a few choice words at us all, giving my brother a particularly hard glare. He's never likely to forgive him for killing Ubo. I wonder if he realizes that Kurapika doesn't mind his hatred because he blames himself for that death as well. Even if he doesn't admit it, I know that the memory pains him. That it reminds him of his own mistakes. That he realizes now that his greatest error was in thinking he could take blind vengeance and pay the price for doing so without regret.

Kurapika's eyes meets Nobunaga's though, their expression dead serious. "Quoll will be all right with me. He's my brother. A very irritating and aggravating brother but my brother. I won't let him come to harm."

"Well, at least we agree on the irritating and aggravating part," Nobunaga grumbles and I blink at him, deliberately letting my jaw drop in amazement at the way they're treating me. They both ignore me, though and Nobunaga resettles his katana. "See that you don't, then," he tells Kurapika as he picks up his pack.

I sigh. It's about time for us to separate and while a large part of me doesn't want to go, it's very much time. Doctor Jones left us days ago with her automatons. We've dropped the children off with the Kal, much to their leaders' bemusement and now we have to separate. I look at Feitan. "I'm worried about those Chimera Ants. We destroyed that one nest. If there's more, or if anything escaped..."

"I'll tell the others and make sure we all keep our eyes and ears open. If more show up, we'll know about it." Feitan agrees. "We'll keep in touch the usual ways. Good luck with that training." Then he's gone, headed up the road and disappearing into the distance so quickly that I barely have time to draw a breath. Nobunaga watches him go, shakes his head and shoulders his pack. Without a word, the swordsman walks the other way. It'll take him longer to get where he's going but I think he likes it like that.

With another sigh, I settle into our car's passenger seat. Arissen has volunteered to drive the first third of the day, a fact that I'd appreciate more if it weren't for his deplorable taste in music. Kurapika's classical tastes may be dull and repetitive and mine simple brain candy but I still can't believe my own father is a country music fan. For that matter, I'm not sure how he's getting the station in. We're in the middle of nowhere, on an entirely different continent from the one where country music developed and we're still getting a rendition of someone complaining about his achy breaky heart.

Behind me, Kurapika makes an odd noise and I look over my shoulder at him. "Hmmm?"

"Something just occurred to me. You were telling me how you escaped the chimera ants' prison this morning?" I nod. We'd been slowly discussing our various adventures, mostly Arissen's over the last few years, and had reached our escape this morning. Kurapika continues. "You said you used a skill that let you use your hair as a lock pick."

Again I nod, puzzled at Kurapika's expression. It's both aggravated and amused, a look I have a feeling I'm going to be seeing quite a bit of in the future. He continues, "It just hit me, Quoll. You _have_ stolen a _nen_ talent that lets you scratch the back of your head without lifting a finger." I blink at the thought and suddenly grin in response. I didn't steal it for that use but I certainly _could_ do so if I wanted. Kurapika shakes his head. "You are incredibly lazy, Quoll. I can see we're going to have a tough time getting you into shape with the Eyes."

In the back of my mind, our Grandfather snorts and I lift an eyebrow. It's getting easier to deal with their presence in there but it can still be disconcerting to have them interject commentary more and more often. We _are_ going to have to work out a way to keep them from distracting me, but for now I'm inclined to let them be, as long as they don't make me miserable in the process.

"Well," I tell Kurapika, "Sometimes there's a fine line between laziness and efficiency and I like to think I walk that line quite well." I smile sweetly at him. "Besides, there's absolutely nothing wrong with conserving one's energies for the important things in life."

"Just as long as you remember that there _are_ some important things in life," my brother tells me. "Especially when training time comes around."

I just lean back and closing my eyes. "In that case, little brother. I'm going to get all the rest I can get. Before you and father start working me to a mere shadow of my former self."

I'm treated to a whole series of snorts, both from outside my head and within. I ignore them, though, in favor of letting my mind drift off, a luxury I've not permitted myself for many years now. The next few weeks, possibly months, are probably going to consist of the hardest work I've had to do since I first learned to control my _nen_. Yet it's also something I'm looking forward to.

I drift off to sleep, ignoring the voice of the singer telling the tale of Kalu in the mountains, and I smile. Some things are inevitable. Some are chosen.

And some things are a gift to be treasured.

**_The End_**


End file.
